


(I was dead before) I hit the floor

by brokendrums



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokendrums/pseuds/brokendrums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall's a spy, travelling the world and enjoying a life of luxury but sometimes there's nothing he likes more than going home and crawling into bed with his best friend Harry. Then he meets Zayn, who's far better at the spy business than he is and things begin to get a little bit complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I was dead before) I hit the floor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bigbang and as ever this began as something completely different only to be changed mostly last minute. I even got a book on MI6 and Casino Royale but didn't actually get round to reading much of them so research was taken from watching Bond movies and my love for Jason Bourne (i.e. take it with a grain of salt.) But then I realised I don't really like seeing any of them hurt so it just turned into a big ball of fluff and resembles nothing like the spy!fic I had initially imagined. It's also probably far too long but I like it :) Title from Baiya by Delphic and in no way affects the story. Thanks to C. Art by the lovely Beestings coming soon. Also shout out to the lovely 1D BigBang mods :)

  
It's hardly dawn yet and Niall is wrecked. 

His eyes feel gritty and he just wants to sink his head into pillows and fall asleep.

The flight from Rio had been long and he can feel the grime from sweating all day in the Brazilian heat along his back. The thought of a shower is making his head ache so he kicks off his shoes instead and heads towards the bedroom.

It's dark, thick curtains pulled across the huge window that looks out on the London skyline. Niall had bought the place with his first big paycheque a few years ago when he had nothing else to spend it on and needed a place to crash while he was in London. It was clean, furnished in chrome and shades of white and beige - perfect for how little he would be at home. It’s a mess now, cluttered and filled with odd colourful pieces of furniture Harry’s found to make it more lived in. If the lights were on he'd see his face dotted around the room, pulling silly faces and angled just right so that Harry can see him from anywhere in the room.

He finds him there just like he expected, curled up in the middle of Niall's bed even though he has a perfectly good bed of his own across from the hall. He's got a pillow under his arm and he's curved up against it, half his face is hidden behind his mop of hair that badly needs a cut. 

Niall gets in quietly, easing the pillow carefully out of his way so he can snuggle up into him in its place. He always thinks back to the first time he met Harry when they do this, it was years ago and they had gotten hammered on shots of sambuca before crawling into Harry's squeaky single bed in his halls and slept until noon the next day. They had woken up tangled together, Harry's hand slotted against Niall's ribs and Niall's thigh between Harry's knees, with dry mouths and bleary eyes and had been friends ever since. 

Harry snuffles, waking up a little and pulling him closer so he can mould to Niall's side. 

"You're back," he murmurs into Niall's shoulder without opening his eyes. He's breathing damply against him and Niall rolls over onto his side to look at him properly. 

"Yeah," Niall smiles at him, pushing his hair away so he can see Harry's other eye. He blinks sleepily at him before smiling toothily, eyes widening now that he's more awake. 

"You didn't die," he states and squeezes around his wrist with his fingers. "Good work Horan." 

Niall grins at him, shuffling across the last few inches until they're pressed chest to chest. It's completely unnecessary but Harry looks calmer now that he's sure Niall's real and can feel something warm and solid under his palms. He runs a hand up over Niall's shoulder and rests it against his neck, thumb pressed against his pulse point - just to make sure. 

"Isn't it?" Niall agrees softly, reaching round Harry to rub a circle into his back. "Had to come back and make sure you haven't burned the building down yet." 

"Not yet," Harry shrugs, pulling his hand away and smiling at him again. "But I'm trying out this new recipe tomorrow so y'never know." 

Niall pulls a face and Harry pouts at him, rolling his face into the pillow to huff. Niall's only joking - one of the things he always misses when he's away is Harry's cooking even if he‘s only mastered a few dishes and the rest is normally scraped into the bin. 

"Sorry," Niall smiles at him pinching his side under the duvet. Harry's grin is still hidden behind the curve of the pillow but Niall can tell by the way the skin crinkles around his eye that he's fine. He yawns again and settles in close, letting his eyes close and his breathing even out to match Harry's.

"I missed you," Harry whispers a few minutes later when he thinks that Niall is asleep. Niall doesn't respond, keeps his face relaxed instead and half buried in the pillow. Harry breathes deeply beside him for a few minutes, nosing against the side of his neck and pressing his lips against the curve of his shoulder. 

Niall freezes and tries not to twitch under the soft press of his lips. He wants to roll over and show that he's awake, push a knuckle under his chin and meet his kiss. The thought nearly catches his breath because he can see it against his eyelids and it's something he barely allows himself to think about. He and Harry have never had that type of relationship and Niall's only had fleeting thoughts about it before. 

He doesn't move, shoulders growing tense from staying so still until Harry settles against him, breath evening out in sleep and Niall has no choice but to follow. 

*

"Is this a new one?" Niall asks gripping Harry's wrist and twisting it so he can see the tattoo across the knobbly bones there. Harry flushes a bit, turning away shyly to go back to frying the sausages on the stove. 

"When did you get that?" Niall can't help asking. He always feels like this when he comes back, Harry will have another tattoo and the living room will be rearranged to fit in something Harry’s found at the market when he’s supposed to be working. It’s like trying to readjust to his normal life before he has to leave again.

"A week ago maybe?" he shrugs and pokes at the pan. "There's another one on my ankle too." 

Niall frowns bending down to grip the leg of Harry's jean leg and yanking it up. Harry laughs, hopping away from him on one foot and letting Niall haul his foot up to look at it. Sure enough there's another one just above his heel. Niall runs his thumb over the ink, watching as his skin blanches white under the pressure and pinking up again when he pulls his fingers away. Harry laughs because it tickles and tries to twist away but Niall follows until he's got his back to the counter and Harry's staggering forward with his hand out to catch himself. He brushes against him, chest to chest and Niall has to take a moment to remember how to breathe.

It’s been happening more and more lately. This morning when they brushed their teeth and when he got back two days ago. It’s starting to fuck with Niall’s head - it’s just Harry - his best mate. It shouldn’t be evoking squirmy feelings in his stomach every time the back of their hands brush together, especially when they’ve spent all night and five years worth of nights tangled together in Niall’s bed half asleep. 

Harry looks at him for a moment, blinking slowly before he breathes out. They're so close that Niall can smell the mint from their toothpaste on Harry's breath and the fabric softener he uses in their washing. Harry blinks again, eyelashes fanning out slowly before Niall’s faced with his dilating pupils again. He can see the moment of realisation that they’re standing so close and their chest brush together when Harry shakes himself and side steps him to get back to the cooker. 

"How do you want your eggs?" Harry asks quietly, poking the frying pan with his fork. Niall swallows, blinking quickly and walking shakily over to the kitchen table. It’s covered in this mornings post and most of last weeks as well but he shoves it all to the side and thinks about finding the table mats but give up when he realises he has no idea where Harry’s keeps them now.

"Scrambled please," he murmurs sinking into the chair. It squeaks as he sits down and Harry flashes a quick smile over his shoulder before hunting through the fridge for the eggs. 

“How was your trip?” he asks when he sets down their plates. It looks good - bacon only burnt a little around the edges. Niall glances up at him and Harry’s giving him an innocent expression as he sips at his tea. 

“You know I can’t tell you,” Niall mutters and butters his toast. He’s been sworn to secrecy and he hasn’t even really had a full debrief from Liam yet. Harry technically shouldn’t even know what he does or who he is but Niall always finds a way to bend the rules for him. 

“You look a little tan,” Harry comments, cocking his head as he glances over him. Niall feels hot under his stare, like he’s being critiqued and for a mad moment wishes he had brushed his hair this morning. Harry’s face breaks into a grin when he reaches out to thumb over his neck and the faint pink line that’s burnt into his skin around his collar. “Somewhere nice?” 

“Stop asking questions,” Niall smiles at him and tries to focus on his breakfast but Harry’s scraped his chair across the kitchen tiles and kept his palm on his shoulder, thumb running maddeningly over the back of his throat as he munches on his toast. 

“So was there any car chases?” Harry asks quietly and Niall peeks up from his sausages. Harry always pokes for answers when he comes back and Niall very rarely tells him because he starts to panic when he realises how much danger Niall sometimes is in. 

“Stop asking questions,” Niall chokes out because Harry squeezes at his neck and ducks his head shyly. He glances back up at him and Niall’s about to break and tell him something exciting when there’s a noise by the front door, the scrape of the lock and squeak of a hinge. Niall’s straightening his back before he realises it, hand slipping to his hip to find nothing clipped onto his belt. Harry’s eyes widen a bit and he sits back, the hand on his neck slipping down to grab at his wrist. 

“It’s just Lou,” he murmurs and he’s back frowning. Niall wears under his breath and tries to relax. 

A moment later Louis appears at the door. His hair looks damp so it must be raining and he looks a little pink from the stairs. Niall’s still a bit jetlagged so he doesn’t know what day it is but Louis’ got his football kit over his shoulder so it must be Saturday. 

"Oh," Louis exclaims when he sees Niall and suddenly flushes, stopping short in the doorway. He takes a step forward before stepping back and Harry snorts softly at the sight of him. 

“Come in Louis,” he laughs and pushes his chair back. Niall misses the warmth of his hand and turns to his plate to hide his disappointment. 

"I didn't know you were back," Louis half stutters and finally steps over the threshold. Niall wonders idly when he got a key to the house but pushes it out of his mind because it’s only Louis and even though they don‘t really know each other, Niall wants to give Harry‘s mates the benefit of the doubt. Louis’ smile is forced when he takes a seat on the other side of the kitchen table, back straight like he can’t relax but it’s no different to any other time Niall sees him so he doesn‘t worry too much about it. 

"How was your business trip?" Louis asks him curiously as Harry turns to the kettle to make him a cup of tea. Louis hasn’t been clued into what Niall does, instead the official story is that Niall is a partner in the watch shop Harry works at and Niall hopes Harry hasn't blabbed his secret. 

“Good,” Niall shrugs and tries to imagine himself at a conference table in Brazil discussing watch repairs. “Weather was too hot and the work was boring but it was a nice break from London.” 

“Hey!” Harry crows from the hallway cupboard where he‘s hoaking for his bag. “I’m in London you dickhead.” Louis laughs uneasily, glancing between them. 

“Sorry,” Niall smiles. “Of course I‘m happy to be back.” 

“Too right you are,” Harry grins, reappearing back into the kitchen hopping on one foot as he pulls on his trainers. He wobbles a bit and Niall watches him fling an arm out onto Louis‘ shoulder to balance himself. Something in his belly twists at the sight of them together but then Harry is in his space, slinging an arm around him over the back of the shoulder and nuzzling into his neck. "It's really lovely to have you home Niall." 

Niall smiles into the shoulder of Harry's coat and opens his mouth to reply but Louis’ frown across the room catches his eye and Harry’s already pulling away with a fond smile. 

“Let’s go Lou,“ he chirps, wrapping a scarf around his neck as well and grabbing his own kit from near the door. “See you later Niall.“ 

They’re out the door before Niall can reply and suddenly he’s all alone in the far too quiet flat. 

*

They quickly fall back into their routine. Niall goes to work and listens as Liam badgers on about targets and meetings and people he’s never heard of while Harry disappears into the city and replaces batteries into the backs of old watches and prices gold all afternoon. 

Harry’s normally home by the time Niall gets there, standing in the kitchen with dinner already in the oven and a quiet, tired smile on his face. It’s nice in a way that Niall misses when he’s away. Harry’s normally tired after work so he folds himself sleepily into the corner of the sofa next to him and lets him pet through his hair. 

They watch Grand Designs and eat lasagne or go the pub on the corner of the street and sing bad karaoke and drink too much beer. It’s so familiar to Niall that he can’t help love it, love being home and comfortable with Harry until he starts getting antsy and restless. He’ll soon get bored of Liam whinging at him at work and of the same four walls at home until he’s flying off to Tokyo or New York to follow someone and twist their arm until they tell him what he needs. But right now he’s fine where he is.

“Shouldn’t this be more glamorous?” Harry asks him quietly one evening. They’re lying across their bed in boxers. Harry’s balancing a half empty glass of wine on his chest and Quantum of Solace is on the telly in the corner. Niall hates James Bond but Harry loves it so he indulges him if it’s ever on the TV and sits through it. He’s nearly asleep when Harry sets his glass down beside the two bottles they’ve already drank and slides across the bed to stretch out beside him.

“I live a life of glamour,” Niall mutters half heartedly, lips hardly moving. There’s something blowing up on screen but Harry ignores it, leaning in until he’s sharing Niall’s pillow. Niall can feel his hair tickling at his nose but he's too sleepy to actually complain about it. 

He laughs, twisting about to get closer and huffing out a breath against Niall when their mouth brush together. It's barely there and clearly an accident but they both freeze. Daniel Craig is delivering a line in the background but all Niall can hear the audible shift in Harry's breathing. 

He does it again and Niall can tell immediately that this time is more deliberate, as if he's testing how much he can get away with. It makes his heart rate spike and he’s suddenly not sleepy at all. Niall isn't sure what exactly to do but Harry lingers close to him and he smells nice so he pushes his chin out further and lets them press together again. 

"Oh," Harry mutters faintly as if he never meant to open his mouth and Niall takes it as his opportunity to push forward and kiss him properly. Harry gasps into it, lifting a hand to pull Niall close with a palm at the back of his neck. Niall licks across his lip, it's not really coordinated but Harry groans into it anyway, opening his mouth and letting him kiss him again. 

He tastes of the wine they had been drinking, and faintly of the stew Niall had made for dinner but Niall sucks on his tongue until all he can taste is Harry. He slots a leg between Harry's, rolling them a bit so Harry's over him, kissing him softly and running a hand down his side. Niall's fingers are digging into the flesh of Harry's thigh, just where the bottom of his boxers are riding up so he has a handful of hot skin and not fabric. 

It’s been on the back of his mind since he’s been back and it feels so much better than he imagined. Harry’s firm and solid, hovering over him and pressing him into the mattress. Warm, soft skin and warm, soft lips.

"No," Harry mutters, suddenly wrenching away until they aren't touching except for the hand trapped below Harry's neck. 

"Harry," Niall tests, catching his breath and swallowing down the panic that Harry's going to bolt. Harry shakes his head, rolling over so his back to him and shoulders shaking as he takes a calming breath. "Harry," Niall tries again, trailing his fingertips over his shoulder. Harry shakes his head into his pillow and his shoulders heave as he takes a deep breath. 

“Harry,” Niall sighs for a third time, dropping his hand and rolling back onto his side of the bed. The TV flashes and the titles are rolling, the screen’s nearly black and sending the room into darkness. Dread settles in Niall's stomach and he suddenly feels sick. Harry doesn't move again, just the tensing of his shoulders as he catches his breath. The gap between them has never been this big but Niall's just thankful that at least Harry's still in his bed. 

*

They don't kiss again.

And Niall's split down the middle. He can't decide if he's happy that there's no change or if he's annoyed he doesn't have a chance to snog the mouth off him at any given moment now that he‘s been given a taste of it. 

They wake the next morning just like normal, Harry burns the toast and the weather's shit so they have to hunt through their wardrobe to find a coat each to walk to the shop. 

The only thing that's different is that Niall is so _aware_ of Harry now. How he presses close to him when he's reaching to flick on the kettle or how he smells of Niall's shampoo when he cuddles up to him after they've finished their dinner. 

He’s a bit more quiet and sometimes Niall can see it in his eyes when he's climbing into bed or if he gets too close to Niall when he's working. He's guarded, hesitating that one little moment before he crawls into the middle of the bed beside him or how he sometimes narrows his eyes and frowns when Niall gives him a tight hug for no reason at all. 

It makes the atmosphere in the flat tense, like they're both desperately not trying to think about it and Niall doesn’t like it at all. It feels like they’re stuck in the middle, not quite back to normal but nothing new either. 

"Are we going to talk about it?" Niall finally breaks and asks him over lunch nearly a week later. It's raining hard and Harry’s somehow managed to drag his morning routine right up to lunchtime so he hasn’t even ventured out of the flat to get to the shop yet. Niall spares a thought for all the watches this side of London that aren’t going to get repaired. 

"Talk about what?" Harry asks biting into his toastie and playing with the gooey cheese that oozes out. He doesn't look up but Niall knows that he knows exactly what he's on about it. 

"Harry." Niall snaps because he really doesn't want to have to spell it out, he already feels an embarrassed flush working its way up his neck. 

"Niall." Harry intones back to him, pulling at a string of cheese and hanging it above his head, bending back to eat it. Niall watches his exposed throat for a moment and swallows around a dry mouth. He's in one of his moods where he'd quite like to kiss the faux oblivious smirk off Harry's face but then slap him afterwards for it. 

“I go away tomorrow,” Niall reminds him and he can see the way Harry’s shoulders fall. 

“I know,” he mutters, shoving the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth and chewing slowly. He hasn’t looked up from the plate yet and Niall takes a chance to push his to the side and make a grab at his hand across the table from him. 

He gets to hold it for a grand total of three seconds before Harry’s twisting out of his grip and dancing across the kitchen. He has a hand up at his face but Niall can’t see it because his back is to him, just the sharp crook of his elbow and how his neck is bowed. 

“Harry,” Niall complains, standing up too but not daring to go too close to him yet. “Can’t we just talk about it?” 

“No,” he shakes his head, fiddling with the wire of the kettle before he flicks the switch and the kitchen’s soon filled with the loud rumbling of boiling water. Niall sighs but he doesn’t even hear it over the din and sits back in the chair watching as Harry takes a few deep breaths before he turns round to him. 

He says something quietly but Niall can’t hear him over the kettle. 

“What?” Niall asks him, standing up and walking over to him. Harry glances briefly up at him before opening the drawer and pulling out a spoon. 

“It’s too hard,” Harry repeats. His voice is tense and Niall can just make him out over the noise.

“What’s too hard?” Niall asks but his stomach is already turning to lead and he doesn’t really need Harry to answer the question at all. 

Harry pulls a face, turning back to the kettle and busying himself making tea. He’s been stirring for a while when Niall reaches out to cup his hand over Harry’s shoulder. He deflates as soon as Niall touches him, leaning back into Niall’s grip for a quick moment before straightening up and pulling away. 

“I can’t do this Niall,” he mutters, blinking up at him with slightly wider than usual eyes and his lips pulled into a thin line. “I can’t do this.” 

He shakes his hand between them and Niall can’t help but feel confused. 

“Why?” Niall asks quietly and it’s the first time that he feels properly disappointed, like he’s just realising how much he might’ve wanted this. Harry pulls a face like he’s being tortured. 

“I just can’t ok?” he snaps. “I can’t do _this_ and have you gallivanting half way around the world every few weeks and getting yourself hurt. It’s already -”

Niall watches as Harry takes a few deep breaths before he looks up at him and the expression on his face is so sincere that Niall just finds himself nodding. Harry just stares at him for a moment, shoulders deflating again before he turns away from him. 

“I’ll see you when I get back from work?” Harry asks tightly and pulls his coat from the back of the kitchen chair over his shoulders. Niall nods even though he knows that he’ll be leaving in a few hours for the airport and Harry will probably stay as late as he can at the shop to avoid him, he always does when they fight. 

“See you later,” Niall promises. Harry nods to himself, slipping out the door without another word and that’s that.

*

He meets Zayn in a cafe in the middle of a busy touristy spot in Casablanca. Niall’s there to track the movement of a few students who are throwing a glitzy fundraiser in a five star hotel. It’s supposed to be about the environment but Liam’s convinced it’s an elaborate cover for something more sinister. Niall has the suspicion that Liam’s over reacting but he’s been sent to survey the group and find the leader anyway. 

Zayn’s sitting in the shade, reclining back in his chair with his head tipped back to catch some of the early afternoon sun. It's hot and sticky, and Niall can smell the salt in the dry air. Niall kicks the leg of the seat and drops into it, cataloguing Zayn's half empty plate and cup of greying tea. 

"They can't make tea for shit here," he mutters and sits up straight, shaking out his shoulders before reclining back into the exact same position as before. Niall smirks and picks up the menu like he's going to order something but his eyes peek over the rim to survey Zayn instead. Zayn's doing the exact same thing, except he’s not hiding behind a menu as he unabashedly examines him with narrowed eyes. Niall can't really say he's surprised. 

He's wearing a leather jacket and Niall doesn't know how he hasn't melted into a puddle on the floor, he had to strip off to a flimsy t-shirt the moment he had got to airport. It droops a bit over his shoulder and he suspects that it originally belonged to Harry but he quickly forgets about that because he promised himself not to think about Harry too much while he was away this time.

"How come you're with us?" Zayn asks after a moment of silent staring between the two of them. 

"Hmm?" Niall asks because he honestly hadn't been expecting that question. 

"The accent," Zayn nearly drawls lounging back into his chair. He tips his head to the side and fishes around in his jeans pocket before tipping a cigarette out into his hand. Niall stares at him for a moment, suspicion popping up in his mind because he's sure that other than a hello five minutes ago he has never spoken to Zayn before in his life. He definitely would’ve remembered those eyes.

Zayn smirks at him, flicking his lighter before leaning back to stare across the table again waiting on an answer. 

"Moved over when I was fifteen," Niall shrugs deciding to tell him anyway, there‘s something about him that makes Niall want to spill all his deepest secrets too. It occurs to him that this fact should probably make him be more wary of him but Liam had told him to trust him so he reclines back in his chair and smiles at him. "But I went back regularly to see my mum."

Zayn nods, inhaling quickly and blowing the smoke up into the air, he doesn't let his eyes leave Niall's. Niall watches as the smoke spirals into the air and he reaches across, taking a sip of the lukewarm tea and wincing. Zayn laughs, it sounds hearty and warm and nothing like his cool exterior. Niall can’t help the grin forming on his face at the sound alone. 

“Come on,” he laughs. “I'm sure we can find a place to get a proper drink.” 

Zayn’s face lights up, standing up and gathering the stack of novels from the table. Niall doesn’t know if its supposed to be his cover in Morocco but they look far too dog eared to have not been read. He glances at Zayn out of the corner of his eye as he lets him pass but Zayn just grins at him and lets him lead the way. They walk down a little alleyway into a courtyard to the side and Niall catches the way Zayn smirks when he realises they’re heading in the direction of the fanciest hotel in the city. 

It’s huge, with creamy white walls and gold décor. There’s a lot of business men floating about on the veranda but he can hear the noise of younger people around the corner in the bar. 

“This the place?” Zayn asks finally shrugging off the jacket once they make it inside. Niall nods, trying not to take in the shape of his arms or the way his shoulders stretch out the shirt he’s wearing. 

“Liam didn’t tell you?” Niall frowns. Liam had been updating him all through the morning since he had landed. Zayn shrugs, slinging the jacket over his shoulder and pulling the books below his arm. It’s only then that Niall realises he has no other luggage with him. “Don’t you have -?” he trails off as Zayn raises an eyebrow at him. 

“I prefer a more minimal approach to this,” Zayn grins with a twinkle in his eye and Niall wonders what the fuck he’s on about. Niall’s case is heavy in his hand and he’s marginally aware of everything that’s in it - weapons, clothes for this evening, cameras, laptops. He has no idea what Zayn’s going to do if they get into trouble except give his attacker a few paper cuts from a Pulitzer Prize Winner.

“Right.” Niall mutters, sliding into the queue behind a group of over excited girls a few years younger. Niall takes it as a good sign that Zayn’s gaze hardly strays from his. 

It ends up that Zayn is in the room right next door to him and Niall isn't sure if it's a good idea at all. There’s a conjoining door and Niall stares at it when he walks into his room. He can hear Zayn banging about on the other side of it and it would be so easy to just slip in beside him. 

Niall’s not really sure what he’d do once he got there but it’s a distraction lingering in the back of his mind as he gets into his routine of checking behind the doors and under the bed. He’s sure that Zayn is doing the same next door but by the sounds of it he isn’t being very conspicuous about it. 

He’s just running his fingers over the ledge of the doorframe into the bathroom when Liam’s emailing him more sketches of what they think the target might look like. 

“I’m just being thorough,” Liam tells him for the third time in as many minutes. Niall rolls his eyes, ignoring the way Liam rolls his eyes right back over the shaky Skype connection they’ve got. “Have you met Zayn then?” 

Niall nods, pulling his shirt over his head and walking back across the room to sit in front of the laptop. 

“What’s his deal?” Niall asks quietly, all too aware of how thin the walls are even though he hasn’t heard a peep out of him for the past hour. 

Liam shrugs. “Not much to tell you really, he does most of his work for us. He was undercover for MI5 for a while but he’s branching out into a more international base now. He’s nice when you get to know him.” 

“I’m sure he is,” Niall agrees quietly and Liam grins at him. 

“He looks really good in a suit as well.” 

Niall snorts and turns back to his laptop to see Liam laughing. “Are you setting us up or something?” 

Liam shakes his head but his smile can’t keep off his face. “Of course not, that would be against company policy wouldn’t it? No fraternizing on the job et cetera.” 

“Yeah et cetera Liam,” Niall grins because he knows that Liam follows every single law to the letter except this particular rule - he’s caught him and the pretty girl from logistics in enough compromising positions to know this for sure. 

“Right I’ll speak to you later, good luck.” Liam laughs and signs off quickly. 

He’s fiddling with the tiny camera, trying to fit it into the tiny button hole of his suit jacket when he hears a noise from next door. It’s the first in a while and his heart begins to thud in response. It sends a thrill up his spine for the split second he thinks the door's about to open and he stands completely still in front of the door, half naked except for his boxers and the dress shirt that still needs to be buttoned in case Zayn walks through it. 

He doesn’t though and Niall tries not to think about the disappointment settling in his stomach. He dresses quickly instead, pulling on his trousers and holster. There’s a gun on his hip and two blades on each of his ankles before heading straight out the door to the bar. 

It's air conditioned but Niall can tell it's still hot outside. There's plenty of people milling about because dinner hasn't been served yet so Niall tries his best to blend in as he crosses the room to the busy bar at the far side. He finds a spot and slips into it, tapping a nervous rhythm on the wood as he scours the room for the target. Liam’s told him to keep an eye out for a woman as well and Niall hates that they’ve only got a few unreliable sketches to work off of. 

"Tequila," Zayn orders, appearing at the bar beside him. He lets his arm linger behind him, knuckles brushing against the base of Niall's back before he settles against the bar on one elbow and turns his whole body towards Niall.

Niall already has a drink in his hand cocks his head watching Zayn as he takes the glass, knocking it back easily with a low laugh. 

"Fancy seeing you here," he mutters. Niall rolls his eyes but it’s all for show because he can't help feeling charmed by him. Liam was right, he looks good, especially in the dim golden light of the room. He's wearing a perfectly cut suit, all black with a tight tailored waistcoat and dark shirt. It looks soft and Niall has a moment where the only thing running through his mind is how if his waistcoat is made out of velvet.

They’re supposed to be trying to look like rich university students but as Niall sweeps his eyes up his chest slowly, drinking in the sight of him, he can’t help marvel at how sophisticated he looks. Zayn’s smirking at him when he flicks his eyes up to meet him and Niall can feel his cheeks heat up. He holds up a finger and the bartender has another glass in front of him within moments. "You want a drink?" 

Niall tips his bottle of beer against his glass but Zayn's already ordering him a shot too. He looks mischievous and Niall has to remember that he has a job to do tonight because it would be so easy to fall for Zayn's charms instead. Zayn pushes the sticky glass into his hand and he knocks it back before Zayn can laugh at him. It stings the back of his throat and he's painfully reminded of all those parties Harry tried to throw in their flat when they had just moved to London and how tequila tastes when he's throwing it up the next day. 

Zayn swallows his shot easily, smile turning liquid as he leans in close.

"Are we going to work together?" he asks quietly, breath ghosting over Niall's cheek. Niall nods automatically to cover the shiver that rolls down his spine but from the way Zayn is looking at him he knows he's been caught. 

"Come on then," Niall sighs, draining the rest of his beer and pushing himself on already wobbly legs away from the bar. Zayn laughs, slapping down some money and Niall has to remind himself again that this is real life and not one of the movies that Harry loves so much. 

They duck through the crowd and Niall keeps his eye out for the man they're supposed to be following. He's plain looking, sandy brown hair with a forgettable face. He’s standing off to the side, button down shirt open at the neck and a grin on his face as he talks to a woman that Niall assumes is the girl Liam wants more info on too. She looks bored, eyes flickering around the room like she'd rather be anywhere else. Niall pulls on his lapel, making sure that the camera in his pocket can get a good look at her as she scans the room. She’s tall in red heels, leaning to the left slightly as if she’s favouring her leg. Niall’s trying to decide whether she poses a threat, gun or no gun strapped to her thigh when their eyes meet. Her stare is sharp and unsettling, holding his gaze until Niall blinks away too quickly to look subtle.

“Shit,” he swears under his breath and Zayn’s hand is on his arm in an instant. 

“Well that was interesting,” he whispers, leading him the opposite way and towards the tables set out for dinner. "You might've just made us an enemy," he murmurs into his ear as he pushes him down onto a chair and tucks him into the table. 

Niall nods distractedly and lets Zayn push him around. He grabs for his napkin to make use of his hands and tries to fight the urge to look over his shoulder. 

"Who is she?" Niall asks him under his breath as Zayn drops into the seat beside him. He’s messing with a piece of card, slipping it over the place setting above the spoons and Niall feels oddly charmed that he's rigged the seating plan to sit beside him. 

"No idea really," Zayn murmurs. "Just a person of interest at the moment but she doesn't look too friendly does she?" 

Niall silently agrees with him, looking over his shoulder to see the woman in the red dress slip into a chair at the top table. She laughs at something the pale man says beside her and helps herself to more wine, eyes raking over the table and glancing up to meet Niall’s again. 

“Christ Niall,” Zayn mutters and reaches for the bottle of wine on their own table. 

“Sorry,” Niall snorts because Zayn looks cute when he’s getting flustered. Zayn glares at him, topping up his glass and pouring his own. “Look,” Niall bargains as he feels the adrenaline start to kick in. “If she tries anything - we’ll just be ready alright?” 

Zayn rolls his eyes and takes a sip of the wine before pulling the menu closer to him. 

The rest of the dinner goes on quietly and Niall’s silently disappointed when the woman slips away after the meal and doesn’t reappear again. Niall wants to go after her and find out what she’s up to but Zayn shakes his head and reminds him that the person they’re supposed to actually follow is currently making a fool of himself on the dance floor. 

“I can’t really see him leading an international ring of terrorists,” Niall mutters and watches as he tries to do the Macarena in the middle of the dance floor. He looks wasted, sweating profusely and half his suit is hanging over the back of his chair. He’s down to his undershirt and laughing hysterically with another man that Niall doesn’t recognise.

“Has he always been this drunk?” Niall asks quietly. Zayn shrugs, pouring the final drops of the wine bottle into Niall’s glass and pushing it towards him. 

“No,” Zayn finally answers when he looks up and they watch him jump about the room. “He does look a bit -” 

He trails off because he can’t quite think of how to describe him and Niall hums under his breath. 

“Dishevelled,” Niall offers as they watch him stumble about. 

“How polite of you Niall,” Zayn grins, teeth sparkling in the light. He drains his glass just as the target staggers off the dance floor and towards the toilets. 

“Oh that was convenient,” Zayn grins and stands up. “I was needing the loo.” 

Niall snorts but gets up from the table after him. They make it through the crowd quickly, smiling at a few nameless nobodies and pushing through the door into the men’s without much bother.

The door swings shut behind them and Niall’s heart starts to race because it’s empty. 

“Who are you?” comes a voice and he spins around just in time to see the man lunge out of a cubicle. He’s clearly drunk and Niall’s surprised he’s able to even swing for them in the state he’s in. His eyes are wide, pupils blown as he staggers across the tiled floor and makes a lunge at Zayn. 

Zayn bats his hand away, grabbing at his wrist and twisting it. He kicks out, foot hitting the porcelain of the sink as he struggles away from them. 

“Who are _you_?” Zayn asks instead but Niall can see the man’s face fall. 

“Hey, let him go for a moment.” Niall orders and reaches out to catch the man as he collapses the moment Zayn lets go. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Zayn asks and Niall shakes his head. His eyes are rolling and there’s a dribble of blood bubbling out of the side of his mouth. 

“I’ve no idea,” Niall replies, wincing as his voice inches up a few octaves. 

“Poison?” Zayn mutters just as the man slumps back with a sick gurgling sound at the back of his throat. 

“Shit,” Niall groans and lets go of him until he can sag against the urinal. “He’s fucking dead.” 

Zayn sighs behind him, pulling out his phone and taking a few snaps to send to Liam. 

“Are they on to us?” Niall asks quietly, snaking his fingers below the man’s jaw and feeling for a pulse to make sure. “There’s no way this is a coincidence.” 

Zayn frowns at him, slipping his phone back into his jacket and reaching out to pull Niall away from the body. Niall feels a bit numb. He hates this part, how he has to just ignore that a man just dropped dead in front of him because he’s not supposed to draw any attention to himself. Zayn offers him a reassuring smile but it doesn’t do much to lift Niall’s mood. 

They slip out of the bathroom and go left instead of back into the ball room. Niall counts his steps and he reaches nine when he hears the first alarmed shout from behind them. 

“We didn’t even get to find out his name,” Niall sighs and then stops talking all together because he can feel eyes on the back of his neck. He knows he’s probably being paranoid but Zayn doesn’t respond either so Niall keeps his mouth shut until they get out of the lift three floors up and arrive at his door. The wine’s hitting him just as the adrenaline is beginning to lag and suddenly exhausted, he just wants to go to bed. He can feel Zayn behind him, shadowing him as he pushes in his key card. His back bends on it’s own accord, arching back until he can brush his shoulder with the Zayn’s front. There’s beat - just long enough to catch a breath before Zayn is pushing him into the doorframe and hooking a finger under his chin. 

“Are you going to be alright on your own?” he asks, voice dropping down until it’s barely a husky whisper. Niall wants to laugh but it’s lodged in the middle of his chest, growing tighter the longer Zayn keeps him pinned to the doorframe. 

“This isn’t my first job,” he smiles quietly and blinks up at him. Zayn's so close that he can see the separation of each eyelash. He stares at them, breath caught in his throat until Zayn blinks slowly and he snaps out of it, heart beating fast but his face thankfully staying in a neutral expression.

Zayn lets out a breathless chuckle and steps back, putting an extra foot of space between them but it isn‘t enough, Niall can still feel the heat radiating off Zayn‘s chest. Niall blinks to himself, stepping further into the doorway and clearing his throat roughly. His mouth’s gone dry and he desperately wants to be back at the bar with a beer again. 

"Sleep well then," Zayn smiles softly at him and it’s a complete change from the Zayn he had spent the whole evening with. "I'll see you around sometime." 

Niall can only nod, he keeps his hands behind his back, one of them gripping the door handle for dear life because if he doesn’t keep himself rooted to the spot he’d be scrambling after Zayn to get at him. And then the hallways empty and Zayn’s door is closing with a final click. He fumbles with his own door handle and flops onto the bed as soon as he‘s in, the unsteadiness of his own breathing the only sound in the room as he kicks off his trousers. He doesn‘t even think about it for a moment, letting his eyes flutter shut and listening to his blood rushing in his ears before he slips his hand into his boxers.

He feels like he’s fifteen again - trying to keep quiet because if he can hear Zayn banging about the room next door he’s sure that Zayn can probably hear him jerk off. He sucks in a deep breath at the thought, of how Zayn could pick the lock between their rooms and watch him. How he could loom over him on the bed and it could be his fingers cupped around his dick, the other hand slipping lower between his legs. 

He comes quickly over his palm and feels mildly unsatisfied as he evens out his breathing and tries not to think of how Zayn’s face had melted into Harry’s just before he came. 

*

“Tequila,” a voice asks beside him and Niall has a weird sense of déjà vu. He turns and Zayn’s standing beside him, small smirk definitely on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” Niall can’t help but ask. Zayn’s smirk widens as he pays for his drink and takes a sip. Niall watches his throat swallow slowly and has to take a gulp of his own drink to wet his dry mouth. 

“Liam didn’t tell you?” he asked. “Thought he told you everything. How come you‘re still here?” 

Niall ignores him, focusing on the little ball of condensation rolling down the neck of his beer instead. He suddenly wishes he had something stronger. From the corner of his eye he sees Zayn knock back his shot, motioning for two more. 

“I’m working,” he mutters turning away from him when the two glasses of tequila arrive at the bar. He had spent most of the day dodging the police around the hotel and trying not to answer the phone to Liam. He knows he‘s been ordered to come home but there‘s something about last night and the woman in red that has sparked Niall‘s curiosity. Plus he’s in no rush home if Harry’s still pissed at him.

Zayn smirks again, running his finger around the rim of the glass and licking the pad of his finger. Niall feels a rush of heat down to the pit of his stomach and knows that he‘s not going to be able to resist for much longer. 

“Not working well enough,” Zayn laughs. He’s suddenly pressed up against his back and Niall doesn’t know where to go to except to press back against him. Zayn chuckles triumphantly into the side of his neck and Niall can smell the tequila on his breath. 

“I’m working fine,” Niall tells him through gritted teeth even though there’s no point, his arse is pressing back against Zayn’s hips like he can’t help himself and he‘s definitely not imagining the way Zayn presses back. 

“Really? How come she walked right out the door over half an hour ago.” Zayn asks, bending down low to bite at the curve of Niall’s neck. 

“Fuck are you being serious?” Niall asks, wrenching away and glaring at him. “And you knew all this time and didn’t tell me? Didn’t you go after her?” 

Zayn laughs, sliding back to his spot at the bar. Niall looks around wildly for the tell tale shock of brown hair and his stomach sinks. “You look cute sitting here trying to look inconspicuous.” 

“Fuck,” he moans again, reaching out for his shot of tequila, swallowing quickly and reaching for Zayn’s glass too before he gives into the sting in his throat. Zayn laughs again, pushing a wedge of lemon towards him and Niall bites into it harshly, glaring at Zayn again. 

“Stop worrying about it,” he grins, reaching for Niall’s wrist and tugging him closer once he’s finished swallowing lemon juice. Niall goes with him, letting Zayn drag him into his chest before he’s on his feet and out of the bar without another word. The door to the lift closes agonisingly slowly but as soon as it’s shut Zayn has Niall pressed up against the mirror and is staring at him intently. 

“Zayn,” Niall mutters, breathing shallowly and running his tongue over his bottom lip. Zayn’s eyes follow him before he gives in with a groan, pressing a kiss against him. Niall lets him, sucking Zayn’s bottom lip into his mouth greedily and biting gently. Zayn clenches a hand in his hair and pulls him in close.

“We doing this?” he asks unnecessarily when they break apart. The doors open and thankfully there’s no one on the corridor. Niall pulls him out after him and they stumble down the hallway as Zayn tries to shadow him the whole way. The key card takes a moment to work and when it does Zayn has him pushed through the door and against the bed within moments. 

“This is probably breaking so many rules," Niall pauses, taking a deep breath before kissing him again, pushing him down into the mattress and throwing a leg over his hip. 

Zayn nods once and surges up, hand locking against the back of Niall’s neck to pull him into a rough kiss. Niall groans into it. He hasn’t been kissed like this in a long time. His mind flashes to the last time he kissed Harry but it hadn’t been like this, this is a kiss with intent. He rocks forward making Zayn gasp into his mouth and he can feel Zayn’s hand coming up to his waist to direct some of his grinding, pulling him down to meet Zayn’s bucking hips.

Niall already feels too hot and too short of breath as Zayn pulls away, dragging his lips down over his chin and sucking on the skin just below his jaw. 

“Zayn,“ he murmurs, grappling at the hem of Zayn’s shirt as he begins to nibble and nip at the skin on his throat. Zayn laughs huskily into the curve of his neck before rolling them over so he’s kneeling up over Niall to pull it roughly over his head. His hair flops with it, sticking up in odd directions and Niall just wants to wrap a hand in it and _tug_. 

Zayn growls when he tries it but it only makes Niall want to do it more. 

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Zayn murmurs under his breath, grazing his teeth down Niall’s throat until he finds a spot that he can nibble and lick over. 

“Zayn,” Niall gasps, canting his hips upwards and trailing his fingers down to hook into the waistband of Zayn’s trousers. He can feel Zayn’s lips quirk into a smile against his shoulder and he rolls off him to unbutton his trousers. Niall follows suit, kicking his own off his ankles and meeting Zayn in the middle of the bed. 

He’s getting impatient so he grabs a handful of Zayn’s arse and grinds into him making Zayn huff a laugh into his mouth. 

“Ok, ok,” Zayn grins into his mouth, pressing his lips against Niall’s before pushing him over back onto his back and slithering down the bed and settling between Niall’s thighs. He slows down to suck a bruise just above Niall’s hip and Niall can feel his mind going blank before he’s pushing his boxers down himself. Zayn chuckles into his waist before giving him what he wants, shifting down the bed to lick a broad streak up his dick before sucking the tip into his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Niall murmurs, sliding his hand into Zayn’s hair and making a pleased sound when he doesn’t protest this time. He sucks sloppily at him for a few long moments, a hand pushing up his stomach and the other clutching around one of Niall’s thighs. He tongues at the tip, looking up at Niall through his eyelashes to tease him until Niall gets annoyed and wrenches him up to kiss him properly. 

Zayn grins into him and Niall’s sure this is the most smiley he’s been since they’ve met. Niall has to take deep gulping breaths to stop himself from passing out as he tucks his thumbs into the waistband of Zayn’s underwear and works them down over the curve of his arse. 

“What do you want?” Niall murmurs, wrapping a hand around him and licking into his mouth for a minute. It’s sort of awkward but Niall had been expecting that. Zayn breaks away and Niall realises for the first time how blown his pupils are. It sends a thrum of heat through him - yesterday, when he had imagined this - he hadn’t thought Zayn would be so affected. He thought he would be broody and mysterious in bed too but Niall’s not bothered, in fact he likes that he’s so different now to what he’s like the rest of the time.

“I’m not gonna last,” he mutters against Niall’s lips. He flicks his eyes up to meet Niall’s gaze almost shyly before ducking his head to look down at Niall’s hand working over him slowly between them. Niall bites his lip, following his gaze and watching as Zayn very deliberately grasps Niall’s hip and pulls at him until they slot together. 

“Yeah,” Niall hums, catching his own dick with his thumb and pulling them together on the upstroke. Zayn groans into the side of his neck before he’s kissing him frantically and Niall has to fight to keep up with him. 

Zayn rolls into him, grinding down and thrusting into Niall’s fist. Niall can’t help the moan escaping the back of his throat, Zayn is hot and slippery against him and it only takes Zayn’s fingers tangling with his own around them that tips him over the edge. 

His ears goes fuzzy for a moment and then he’s back in the room with Zayn grunting into his ear and coming over their fists after a few sloppy thrusts. He collapses over him, catching his breath before sliding off onto his side. When Niall looks over at him, his eyes are fluttering half shut and he’s breathing out of his mouth, his bottom lip pushed out. Niall wants to suck on it. 

So he does, in a final kiss just before they both fall asleep. 

*

Niall's on his front when he wakes up and it takes him a moment to figure out why he's awake in the first place. His alarm isn't going off and it's barely light outside so he knows he isn't late for anything. He smiles into the pillow when he realises there's a heavy weight spread across his waist, pinning him to the bed. 

"Round two?" he mumbles into the cotton with a small laugh. 

He doesn't hear Zayn laugh back, instead the weight rocks down and tightens around him. Niall frowns for a moment before a long fingernail trails down his cheek, digging in just enough to sting. 

"Fuck," Niall swears when he inhales the sharp scent of flowers and he knows instantly that it's not Zayn on his back. 

"Morning," someone laughs breathily into his ear and Niall curses again because the voice is distinctly more female than Zayn’s. How the fuck did he get caught? Liam was going to _kill_ him. 

"Who are you?" Niall asks and tries to wriggle his arms out from under him but the woman has him pinned, her knees digging into his waist and he can feel the stinging pressure of a stiletto heel at his calf. He's hyper aware that he's naked under the sheet and his mind spins as he tries to figure a way out and where the fuck Zayn is at the same time. 

“Haven’t worked that one out yet have you?” she asks and Niall can see the smirk on her face just from the tone of her voice. Her accent is English and it only flares annoyance in him that he has no idea who she is. 

“Obviously not,” Niall mutters, rolling his wrists from where she has them pinned together to test her grip. It’s tight and she places more weight on them to the point where Niall can feel the ache in them already. He knows that if she puts pressure in _just_ the right place the bone will snap under her palm. 

“Too busy fucking your little partner in crime,” she chuckles leaning forward and nosing at the hair at the back of his neck. He can feel her teeth graze against his neck for a moment while she lifts a hand from his wrists. He’s completely blind to her except for a glimpse of her pale yellow dress in the corner of his eye and a curtain of long brown hair. It doesn’t give him much to go on. He’s thinking of ways he can flip her over when he feels the cool press of a blade against the base of his neck. It irks him even more when he realises that it’s probably his own weapon. “Where is he now, hmm? Where‘s lover boy now?”

Niall stays silent, biting on his lip to not say something stupid and she tuts, pressing the blade in closer. It’s sharp and he can feel it cutting against his skin. “I can see the wheels turning in your head,“ she mutters against him. “Thinking how you’re going to get out of this one aren’t you?” 

His skin splits and he can feel the beading of blood. It’s only a nick but it only tells him that she’s going to take her time and play with him for a moment longer. Niall’s mind is whirring, trying to figure out what to do when she giggles to herself and moves the knife up his neck to press it against the underside of his jaw. 

“Well you’re not,” she whispers like it’s a secret and Niall can feel blood roll down his neck to soak into the pillow below him. “This could be fun.” 

She inches the knife on down his throat, her wrist level with his jaw bone now and Niall can see the red nail polish vividly where it’s wrapped around the handle of his knife. 

“A barrel of laughs,” Niall agrees, trying to keep the strain out of his voice but she chuckles into his ear anyway, pausing to bite at the lobe of it. Niall shudders and she presses him harder against the mattress. She has the flat of the blade flush with his Adam’s apple now and Niall, for the first time in a long time, actually considers that this is it. He tests his wrists again but he’s scared to push too far and snap them. She’s not that heavy across his back but he’s completely incapacitated under her. He takes a shallow breath, inhaling the smell of flowers and stale sweat off the sheets and contemplates his death when the door kicks open. 

“Fucking hell,” Zayn shouts and suddenly there’s a lot more weight on his back than before. Niall yelps, his wrist bending precariously under the woman’s stomach as Zayn wrestles her off Niall’s waist. 

“Ow,” Niall moans into the pillow and suddenly there’s nothing stopping him from twisting round onto his back. His neck feels wet from where blood has dripped over his skin and the different cuts sting when he stretches his jaw but Zayn’s toppling off the bed after the woman and Niall only has time to pause for a second to watch as they struggle on the fancy rug in the middle of the room before he jumps in too. 

She laughs under Zayn’s arm and Niall gets the first real look at her. He only recognises her from the party on his first night there. She looks plain enough, definitely not like she could pin him so fast. She grins up at him, kicking out with her foot to catch his already throbbing wrist. 

“Fucker,” Niall cries and spins away from her to try and protect his wrist. Zayn makes a noise from behind him and when Niall looks up she’s on her feet, staggering across the room to the door and disappearing out of it. 

“Shit,” Zayn moans, rolling onto his front and thumping his fist onto the carpet. Niall’s focused on the pain in his wrist and too busy praying it isn’t broken when Zayn crawls to his feet. “Are you alright?” 

Niall looks down and realises that he’s naked. He blinks at him, feeling the embarrassed flush work it’s way up his neck as he nods. Zayn nods back, relaxing into the side of the bed as he steadies his breath. Niall flexes his hand, ignoring the twinge in his wrist and feels Zayn’s long fingers wrap around his ankle in an gesture of comfort. It calms him a little but there’s still a buzzing panic settling in his stomach as he takes in what happened. 

He’s seriously fucked the mission up and when he risks a glance up at Zayn he can tell that Zayn knows that too. The woman never should have been able to get that far and Niall can only thank his lucky stars that he’s still alive.

Zayn’s face twists and next thing he’s scrambling up off the floor and out through the door into his own room. 

“Zayn!” Niall yells, already knowing what he’s doing. “You can’t, she’s gone!” 

“No!” Zayn snaps, reaching for a case and slamming it onto the bed. Niall looks around, grabbing the first clothes he can see and pulling them on. It’s a pair of boxers that probably belong to Zayn and a dress shirt from last night, a few buttons are missing from the top so he makes do with doing the middle button and hoping that he doesn’t get arrested for public indecency. He probably looks ridiculous and he wants to go back and find a pair of trousers but Zayn’s already loading his gun so Niall pulls on a pair of trainers and hunts under the bed for his own gun. 

Niall has just enough time to grab his phone from under the pillow before running out the door after Zayn. He hits number two on speed dial and wishes that he had his ear piece but Zayn’s already running down the stairs two at a time that he doesn’t have time to spare a thought to where it is back in the room. 

“Niall,” Liam answers after the first ring and Niall huffs out a breath as he lands on the first floor landing moments after Zayn. 

“The woman Liam. In the red dress,” Niall tells him tersely, pushing through the double doors and slowing his run into a brisk walk as they leave the hotel because there‘s still a few police loitering about. He feels eyes on him but he keeps his head down and tells himself that it isn’t because he’s strutting out of his hotel in a pair of pants. The sun is hot outside and Niall spares a thought for Zayn in his black waistcoat and jeans. “ _Find her._

“Niall, what? What happened? _You‘re supposed to be on your way home!_ ” Liam cries indignantly but Niall can hear him scrambling about on the other line to get to a computer. He has no idea what time it is or really what day it is so Liam could be at home for all he knows. 

There’s a market in the middle of the square and it’s full of traders and buyers and tourists. It’s bustling and loud and Niall’s able to catch up with Zayn as they push through the crowds. Zayn’s fiddling with his own phone and he has no idea who he’s talking to until he’s patched in and suddenly he can hear his voice in his ear as well as in front of him. It’s disorientating for a moment, mixed in with the voices of all those around them and right in his ear as well. Niall just wants them all to stop, he wants Liam to stop asking questions and he wants Zayn to stop pushing forward through of disgruntled tourists and he wants the throb in his arm to disappear. He wants it all to stop. 

“ _There_ ,“ Zayn suddenly darts to the left through two women in garish blue shirts. Niall sees a flash of yellow and dark hair before he’s pushing in after Zayn as well.

 _“What is going on?”_ Liam barks down the phone again. Niall’s mildly aware of tapping going on in his ear but his main focus is on Zayn a few steps ahead. 

It nearly happens in slow motion. He gets a hand on her, fingers enclosing around the strap of her dress to spin her round. She seems startled for a moment, going limp and allowing Zayn to bodily push her through a beaded curtain and into a dark alcove at the side of a market stall. 

Niall shoves in after them and it’s suddenly chaos. He can hear the slap of skin and Zayn grunting but it’s hard to make anything out in the darkness. There’s a faint glow from Zayn’s phone, hooked into his front pocket and the odd flash of lemon yellow fabric catching a strobe of sun that’s made it through the curtain. 

“Who are you?” Zayn demands, getting a hand on the woman’s chin and forcing her cheek into the dusty wall behind them. For a second Niall thinks she’s crying but after a breath he realises it’s actually laughter. It rouses him out of his daydream and he leans in close to get a hand on her wrist but that only makes her laugh louder. 

“Like I’m going to tell you two,” she cackles, twisting suddenly and somehow getting her hand free, twisting at Niall‘s wrist to make it throb. Niall struggles to get it in his grasp again, his phone clattering to the ground below them, crunching under their feet and before he gets her under his control she lets out a blood curdling scream. 

“Fuck,“ Zayn yelps, leaning back but Niall realises what she’s doing and clamps a hand over her mouth. She bites at him, licking over his palm and thrashing her head from side to side just as the beads clatter against the wall behind them and suddenly someone is shouting at them in rapid Darija. 

It’s the distraction she needed because Zayn swings round to shout something back to him while Niall tries to keep her under control. She comes up sharply, slapping at Niall’s eyes and kicking up with a knee to get Zayn between the legs. Zayn doubles over with a cough and Niall staggers back and in a second she’s escaped out through the beads and into the sun again.

 _“Bitch,”_ Zayn swears under his breath. The man in the entry way looks stunned and Zayn shoves him out of the way on his way past, stumbling out after her and forcing Niall to follow them. He has to blink the sun out of his eyes again and in the moment of hesitation a hand lands across his face as soon as he’s in the open making his vision go wonky as he misses a step and lurches to the side. 

There’s a flurry of commotion and when Niall rights himself again he can see Zayn, sprawled across the kerb and half lying in a basket of oranges. Niall doesn’t have time to see if he’s alright before a flying fist comes near his face again. 

“Christ,” he yelps. The woman meets his hand every time he tries to strike a blow, slapping his wrist where she knows it must sting and kicking up to his side with her feet. She’s good and Niall suspects she’s had training but that only makes it all the more confusing. He’s mildly aware of the market spreading out around them, creating a circle and shouting in a mixture of languages. He knows what they must look like and he doesn’t want to create this much of a distraction but the woman doesn’t seem to care, grin turning manic as she gets his forearm clasped between her two hands and _twists_.

Niall falls to one knee, his arm giving out almost immediately. He can see her knee coming at him and it’s easy to dodge, easy to fall onto his arse and roll so his arm is the right way round again. It gives him a chance to wrench his gun out from the back of his waistband and he has it pressed to the base of her back before she realises what he’s done. Zayn’s on his feet now too, shaking orange peel out of his hair and leaning heavily on his left foot but looking at them determinedly. 

It takes the crowd a moment to realise what’s happened, to catch up on why the woman is suddenly going limp, back straight but arms flopping to her sides and when a little boy yells out about the gun the whole place descends into chaos again. The woman hits out, catching Niall in the throat and making his head snap back. She wrenches free and escapes into the crowd in the pandemonium. Niall swings his arm around, setting up a shot but there’s too many people to get it clear. 

“Not worth it,” Zayn is suddenly pressed against his side, picking him up and shoving him into the dark of the alleyway again. Niall knows better than to protest, letting Zayn guide him down the tight entry and out the other side. It’s quieter this side of the building and no one recognises them yet, people only staring curiously at them for their sweat drenched and blood stained clothes. 

“Are you alright?” he asks quickly, wrapping a hand around his wrist but putting very little pressure on it which Niall is grateful for. 

“Yeah,” Niall pants, keeping in step as they walk down the street hurriedly. They reach the little café where they met a few days ago and Zayn walks on in, past the counter and up the stairs. A few of the customers look up but the man behind the counter says nothing as Zayn leads Niall into a small room on the top floor. There‘s a small bed and a stack of dog eared books on the rickety coffee table that looks out on a dirty window. It throws Niall for a moment and he wonders how long Zayn‘s actually been in Morocco. “What’s all this?” 

“Always have backup,” Zayn laughs hollowly and wrenches open the door to the wardrobe. There’s a few shirts hanging there and tucked behind a row of clothes is another case that matches the one from his room this morning and Niall realises with a sigh that they won’t be able to go back to the hotel. This one isn’t filled with a gun however and when he flips it open Niall nearly laughs at the neatly folded clothes and bottle of shampoo squeezed in beside a slim Macbook.

“There’s a shower through there,” he nods towards a second door in the corner of the room and Niall nods gently. “I’ll book us a flight and get us home.” 

“My passport,” Niall sighs and Zayn looks up at him almost shyly. He opens the little zip compartment and pulls out two passports, throwing the first one over at him. 

“Liam meant to give you yours but I thought I better keep a hold of it.” 

Niall shakes his head, half way between relieved and annoyed that they didn’t just give him all of his documents, even the backup ones. 

“Go,” Zayn laughs at Niall’s frown, wrenching the passport back out of his hand and replacing it with a towel instead. “Shower.” 

Niall nods, escaping into the tiny bathroom off to the side. The shower is crap with barely any pressure but it’s refreshingly cool and nice when he strips out of the ripped shirt and steps under the spray. He’s able to lather up his hair and ignore the sting as suds get into the cuts on his neck and across his face by the time he feels the press of Zayn behind him. 

He can’t help the way his shoulders tense, head whipping to the side to catch the ink spread across his collarbone to make sure that it’s actually him before relaxing into his chest. 

“Got you a seat on the five fifteen,” he murmurs against his neck, his arm circling around him to splay across his belly. Niall melts into him, circling his hips and rubbing against him until Zayn’s dick slides into the crease of his arse. 

“You not coming with me?” Niall asks quietly, wrapping his hand in Zayn’s on his stomach and reaching back to grip awkwardly at his hip. It makes his wrist ache but Zayn’s pushing against him in a slow grind that is sending sparks up his spine so he‘s able to ignore the pain. 

Niall’s hyped up on adrenaline still and he can’t really process what’s happened today except that Zayn was there and Zayn’s still there now. 

“Someone’s gotta tie up all your loose ends Horan,” he mutters, biting at his ear before pushing his face into the back of his neck and groaning against his shoulder blades. He slides his hand down Niall’s stomach, wrapping it tightly around the base of his dick and jerking up roughly. Niall raises his palm to press against the grimy tiles in front of him, panting out Zayn’s name and rocking back against him as his hands picks up speed and twists at just the right angle. 

“You looked so good out there,” Zayn tells him roughly, squeezing around the head of his dick and canting his hips against his bum. “It was fucking scary but at the same time you’re so hot when you’re angry.” 

Niall’s stomach twists and he can’t find any words to respond to him so he just wiggles his bum and clutches Zayn to him tighter. He growls out Zayn’s name when he comes all over the tiles a few minutes later before he turns around under the spray and gets to his knees in the tiny cubicle. Zayn groans, hand coming down to cup around his cheek as he pushes into the heat of his mouth.

It only takes a few more thrusts into the tight circle of Niall’s lips before he’s coming too. Niall swallows around him and pants a few short breaths into his hip before Zayn’s slithering down to kneel in front of him and he catches him in a surprisingly sweet kiss. 

“For some reason,” Zayn mutters into his mouth, curling a hand into the back of his neck and pulling Niall close until they can breathe the same air. “I never want to see you getting hurt again.” 

Niall nods, he’s nearly breathless and along with the ache in his wrist and the stinging across his skin he can feel a tightness in his chest that he can’t really explain. 

“Yeah,” Niall murmurs, kissing him again before Zayn simply wraps his arm around him and pulls him in close.

*

“I’m fine,” Niall says tiredly to Liam once he gets off the plane and into the non descript black car parked outside. He has no luggage or belongings and the shirt on his back belongs to Zayn. It’s dark and the cool air reminds him distinctly of home. It just makes him long for his bed and for Harry, so a long speech from Liam is the last thing he needs. 

Liam’s peering over the gear stick at him with a hand hovering just shy of the faint bruise that’s blooming under his eye. 

“You went off the grid,” Liam mutters, reversing out of the parking space and spinning out of the car park. He’s angry, Niall can sense it but there’s nothing he can do about it now. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Niall promises quietly, sinking back into the chair and rolling his neck. He was too paranoid to sleep on the plane and his muscles are aching by now - he just wants to be in his own bed. “Please, Liam can we talk about this tomorrow?” 

Liam huffs a breath out of his nose and Niall can see the way his hands are gripping the steering wheel that he’s still not very happy. 

“You could’ve died. I thought you had died.” Liam sighs and lifts a hand off the wheel. For a moment Niall thinks that he’s going to ruffle his hair but he reaches across suddenly and grasps Niall’s hand briefly for a moment as they come to a red light. Niall squeezes back and waits for the light to change. The quickest way home is to the left and back to Base is straight on. Niall takes a sharp breath and gives Liam’s hand another squeeze when he flicks on the indicators with his free hand. 

“Thank you,” he sighs as Liam untangles their fingers to spin the wheel left. The road’s nearly deserted and he’s pulling up outside Niall’s building within a matter of minutes. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Liam tells him with an air of finality. Niall smiles at him gently and eases himself out the car.

“Tomorrow,” he promises just before shutting the car door. Liam waves him away before shifting the car into reverse. 

All the lights are off in the flat. It smells of lemons and Niall’s stomach pangs for some of Harry’s cooking but he walks straight past the kitchen, searching him out in the darkness of their room instead. 

The bed's empty.

Niall tries not to think anything about it, swallowing down the disappointment and sliding underneath his cold duvet. The pillow still smells faintly of Harry and he’s torn between whether it’s better or worse. He inhales deeply, burying his face into the worn pillowcase and finally relaxes enough to fall asleep. 

When he wakes up the bed is warm around him and he shuffles further into the middle of the mattress, opening his eyes when he bumps into something warm. 

“Hello,” Niall murmurs and Harry blinks sleepily back at him. It takes Niall a moment to remember that he hadn’t been in bed when he went to sleep and he cracks his eyes open to look at him again. Harry stares at him and Niall can’t tell what that means, but he’s finally in his bed so he pushes the worrying to the back of his mind for another time. 

“You’re back,” Harry sighs quietly and inches closer until he can give him a brief hug, rolling back once he squeezes him tightly. His eyes linger on him, flicking from his eyes to his neck and Niall feels his cheeks warm. 

“Don’t,” he murmurs when Harry raises a hand to ghost his finger over one of the longer cuts on the side of his neck. The sheets around him fall and Niall knows he’s caught sight of the deeper cuts and bruising around his shoulder. 

“What happened?” he asks, eyes widening with unabashed fear and Niall feels a hundred times worse. 

“Nothing really,” he mutters, batting his hand away again and rolling closer to him. “Looks worse than it is.” 

He manages a smile and it seems to placate Harry for a moment because he relaxes into the pillows again and sighs quietly. 

“This time was worse,” he mutters after a moment of staring at the ceiling and Niall can’t handle the way his mouth turns down in a frown. 

“I was only away for three days,” Niall murmurs quietly. He’s been away for so much longer before and Harry had been fine. This feels different though. Niall watches the side of his face quietly, the only sound in the room their shallow breathing and the sound of birds outside their window. 

“Yeah but - “ Harry breaks off to take a deep breath. He lets his eyes close, flipping over onto his side so he can bury his face into the pillow beside Niall’s head. “But we had that falling out and what if something had happened? What if -” 

He peers up at him, bringing his hand to sit on Niall’s sternum, his thumb brushing over one of the slices in his skin. It jolts Niall’s memory and he gets an unpleasant flash of yesterday morning on the back of his eyelids when he closes his eyes. Harry can feel him tense up and he frowns, lifting his hand away from Niall like he’s been stung. 

He looks a bit distressed for a moment so Niall rolls over closer to the side of his body and squishes up against him. “Nothings going to happen to me.” His mouth feels dry and he can’t look at Harry’s face because they both know it’s a lie. He doesn’t know what else to say to make Harry feel better. 

Beside him, Harry turns his head, breathing hotly against Niall’s neck so he doesn‘t have to meet Niall‘s eyes either. “Promise?” he whispers and Niall’s chest suddenly feels tight. His eyes look so wide and pleading but he knows he can’t do that. 

“I can’t do that,” Niall tells him quietly and what he can see of Harry’s face crumples. Niall reaches out to slide his palm over Harry‘s warm cheek, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip briefly before catching himself and sliding it back onto his cheek. “You know I can’t.” 

Harry nods, winding an arm around his waist and pulling him close. 

“I just wish you never had to do this,” he sighs into him and Niall nods because sometimes he wishes that too.

Harry curls around him and doesn’t let him go until his arm goes slack with sleep and he’s dozing silently beside him. Niall listens to him breathe, ignoring the dull ache in his wrist but doesn’t fall back asleep with him. Instead he runs the whole thing over and over in his head again until Harry snuffles against him an hour later and they slip out of bed and into the kitchen.

It’s quiet but so utterly normal that it makes Niall’s chest ache. He smiles brightly at Harry, accepting his tea and soft touches to his shoulder and pretends not to notice how Harry is like his shadow the whole time. 

*

It’s confusing being back at home. Harry’s quieter this time though, sometimes being subdued around him and other times curling into him and being clingy. Niall isn’t exactly sure how to handle it except hug him back if he wants it or giving him space when he needs it. 

He’s called into work and forced to sit through a series of meetings where everyone not so subtly shoves all the blame onto him. He lets them though because he isn’t in the mood to argue with them until Liam pulls him into his office and tells him that he’s been given time off. 

“What type of time off?” Niall asks, narrowing his eyes because Liam’s beginning to look shifty. 

Liam pulls a face and rubs his hands through his hair before clearing his throat and meeting Niall’s eyeline. 

“They think that maybe you should have a few days off to clear your head and get yourself fit again.” 

“It’s my wrist,” Niall holds up the offending wrist to show Liam the new splint that’s been put on it just in case it decides to snap the next time he lifts his toothbrush. “I’m not waking up from a coma, I’m fit.” 

Liam pulls a face again and Niall notices the way his foot is tapping the murky blue carpet below them. 

“What is it Liam?” Niall snaps because his patience is beginning to wear thin. Liam looks like slapped puppy, bottom lip pouting before he pulls himself together and just blurts it out. 

“You failed the psych exam,” he says in a rush. “And they’re worried you’re not fit for duty.” 

Niall’s cheeks are burning when Liam looks back up at him. It gets worse when Liam throws him a sympathetic wince. 

“I’m really sorry Niall,” he sighs and reaches forward to settle a hand on his shoulder. “It could be a fortnight before we find them again anyway - you’ll be sorted by then.” 

Niall can hear the fake cheer in his voice and it makes it all the more worse. He’s never failed any of the exams before and a hot bolt of shame sinks into his gut. His wrist twinges by his side and his mind has sort of gone numb as he thinks of what to tell Harry - he’ll probably be ecstatic that he’s at home anyway.

“Ok then,” Niall says tightly, shaking his hand off and edging out of the room. He keeps his eyes down so no one in the busy corridor will speak to him and glances back at Liam. “I’ll see you later then.” 

Liam slumps into the doorframe and looks defeated. “It‘s only a few days,” he reminds him but Niall’s already half way down the corridor and not listening to him anymore.

Days trickle into weeks and Niall is beginning to go stir crazy. Harry’s caught on that something’s up because Niall hasn’t been in the house for this long in a while but he seems too happy with Niall being there to question it fully. 

Niall begins to get into a habit, timing his day as Harry gets up to shower, making him tea for before he leaves for the shop and scraping butter over hard pieces of toast. He watches Homes Under The Hammer and the lunchtime news before getting nearly every answer right in all the quiz shows afterwards. He sharpens his knives, cleans his guns and washes the mud out of Harry’s football kit before making a hurried dinner in time for Harry to crash through the door and press a smile into his temple. 

All the while he can’t get his trip to Morocco out of his head, he spends his days thinking of Zayn, and his eyelashes and his fingers. Imagining them trailing down his cheek and spanning across his stomach. He imagines his tongue licking into his mouth and making a path across his collarbone to suck on his nipple. It makes him groan into a cushion Harry picked up in the Marie Curie shop round the corner and rub against the edge of the sofa until he comes in his boxers to a repeat of Weakest Link. 

He spends the nights focused on another aspect of his trip - he can’t sleep without shaking awake in the early hours with an imaginary weight across his back and the slick feeling of blood rolling down his jaw. Liam urges him to see a therapist and Harry sometimes stares at him with fearfully wide eyes until Niall can muster a smile and shushes him asleep again. 

It’s boring and tedious and Niall needs something more constructive to do with his time. If he had a distraction he knows he would feel better. 

The door one goes one morning a little after three. Niall's awake first but by the time he gets untangled from Harry, Harry's up too and out the door before him.

"Who is it?" Harry yawns when he reaches the front door and Niall rolls his eyes, following him through the living room towards the door. The only respite he can give himself is that if it really was someone out to hurt them - they wouldn't have knocked the bloody door. 

Whoever it is doesn’t answer, just another thump on the door in response and Harry frowns at the wood, unlatching it and scratching idly at the waistband of the pyjamas that are slung low on his hips.

"Alright, alright," Harry mutters letting the door swing open. There's a beat before he's lunging out to catch the weight of Zayn as he falls through the threshold. "What's going on?" Harry asks and Niall can hear the panic in his voice already. 

"Zayn?" Niall asks worriedly, hurrying out of the shadows so he can help Harry. Harry stares at him wide-eyed but shuffles into the living room after him, lugging Zayn behind him obediently. "Y’alright? Do you need a doctor?"

He doesn’t answer and there’s a sickening moment where Niall reaches around to hold his fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. They let him down onto the sofa gently and when Niall gets him under the light he blinks blearily up at him. 

"Zayn, do you need the hospital?" Niall asks once more before tilting Zayn's head towards the light and trying to get him to respond. 

"No," Zayn shakes his head, wincing at the motion and blinking dazedly a few more times. "Just stitch me here." 

Harry actually retches at the thought and he’s up off the sofa before Niall has a chance to calm him. He disappears into the kitchen and Niall hears him retch once more before there’s the sound of a few cupboards banging open. Zayn hardly looks fazed, concentrating on Niall's face as he moves to check him over. 

He's bloody, it's all over his cheek and rolling down his neck. His collar is soaked through, turned a gruesome crimson as it seeps down the front of his shirt in a wide patch. There's a deep cut on his forehead, a slash from his eyebrow to his hairline. His cheeks are scraped shallowly and his lip is split, dribbling blood down his chin. His right eye is already starting to swell and turn blue. 

"How did you find me?" Niall can't help but ask. Zayn finds the energy to snort just as Harry comes back into the room, Niall's hefty first aid box under his arm. 

"Not doing my job if I didn't know that," Zayn mutters and sits up straighter now that Niall's reaching for the bag. Niall laughs and Zayn manages to smile back at him. Harry balks at the thought that they're laughing at a time like this. Niall offers him a small smile that he hopes is reassuring but going by the expression on Harry’s face he doesn’t think it’s working too well. 

"Harry will you go get me a cloth. And some warm water please?" he asks him gently and Harry nods slowly, disappearing off to the bathroom before Niall can say anything else. 

"He ok?" Zayn asks quietly and Niall nods, sorting through the bag for a needle and some gauze. There's weight behind Zayn's question that Niall doesn't want to acknowledge yet, and he knows that Zayn is asking if he's a liability. Harry's back within moments anyway, setting down a basin of water and sinking down onto the sofa in silence. 

"You don't have to stay here," Niall murmurs, wetting the flannel and starting to wash Zayn's face. Harry shakes his head, sitting back an inch from Zayn who is biting his bloody lip to stop himself from moaning at the stinging of the antiseptic. 

"I know it hurts," Niall sighs and smoothes a hand over Zayn's wrecked hair. Zayn doesn‘t protest, moving his head back to rest his hand against the solid weight of Niall‘s palm. "Just make a noise, stop trying to be a hard man."

Zayn's shoulders deflate and he takes a deep shuddering breath. "Fuck," he groans when Niall dabs at his cut again. "Fuck."

Harry laughs nervously and Niall flashes him a reassuring smile, pressing against the cut once more before searching through the bag for a shot of lidocaine. 

Harry reaches out, grasping Zayn’s fingers and letting him squeeze them tightly. He flashes him a slow grin turning into a grimace when Niall pushes the needle in through the first layer of his skin. 

Harry retches again, turning his head away and shuffling to the edge of the sofa as far as Zayn’s arm can stretch because he won’t let go and Niall notices for the first time that Zayn is gripping Harry’s hand hard enough to turn his knuckles white. 

It takes him a few minutes but Niall stitches him up as quickly and as neatly as he can, wincing whenever Zayn makes a particularly wet choking noise from the back of his throat. 

“It’s alright,” he soothes, wrapping a decent bandage over the cuts and smoothing his hair away from his face again. Harry looks pale beside him and Niall grips his fingers, pressing a brief kiss to his forehead. He ignores the way Zayn watches them through pain hazed eyes when he turns to smile brightly at him. 

“Shower?” he asks, gently helping Zayn up from where he’s sitting and not waiting for his answer. Zayn goes easily, Harry following along behind them until he hesitates by the door. Niall looks up from where he’s starting to strip Zayn out of his clothes.

“You ok?” he can’t help but ask. Harry’s frowning, eyes raking over the pair of them and Niall feels guilty for a moment for being so wrapped up in Zayn.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, edging into the room to help him work Zayn’s jeans down over his hips. 

The water is probably too hot but Zayn demands it that high as he sways near the edge of the bath. Niall steps right in with him, water soaking into his t-shirt as he helps Zayn over the lip of the tub and holds out a supporting arm for him. He tries to keep some of the deeper cuts dry, using his hand to guide the water down his neck to wash away the blood that’s smeared down his skin. Harry steps in a moment later, squeezing around Zayn to hold onto his side and help keep him upright. Zayn’s eyes flutter shut, letting the pair of them take his weight. 

“You feeling ok?” Niall asks him again and Harry nods, focusing on the rivers of pinkish water dribbling down over Zayn’s chest and not realising that this time the question wasn‘t aimed at him. 

“I’m fine.” Zayn gasps instead, wincing as Harry rubs the sponge harshly over the cut on his side. 

Niall nods even though Zayn can‘t see him, dabbing at his face and moving him gently out of the bath before turning off the water. 

"You can sleep in my bed," Harry tells him once they have him wrapped in a fluffy towel. Zayn glances at Niall before shaking his head. 

"I don't want to put you out," he mutters and Niall flushes under the fluorescents. Zayn raises his eyebrows. "Oh right," he says quietly under his breath, pulling the towel tighter around his waist and looking at the floor. His hair is adorably floppy when wet, the blond swath sticking flat to his forehead as he looks between them. “That would be great thank you.” 

He’s being oddly polite, but the skin around his eyes are tight and Niall can tell by the sluggish way he’s talking that he’s exhausted. Harry escapes the bathroom, disappearing into Niall’s room as Niall leads Zayn out into the hall and into the room opposite. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he tells him with a hint of warning because he knows that Zayn would probably do anything but ask for help. He pulls open a drawer to get him some underwear and walks back across to where Zayn’s stooped on the edge of the bed. 

“Hey Niall,” Zayn mutters as Niall bends to hook them around his feet. Zayn leans heavily on his shoulder when he stands, allowing Niall to pull them up and snap them carefully around his waist. “Thank you.” 

“No problem Zayn,” Niall sighs, following his instincts and pressing a kiss against his forehead. In a twisted way he’s glad that Zayn’s here, even though he’s injured. Zayn goes with it, letting his eyes close for a brief moment before sitting back down and shifting carefully into the middle of the bed. 

“Night Niall,” he sighs and stares up at the ceiling, hand going to run his fingers lightly over the bandage on his forehead. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Niall promises closing the door shut and waiting for a moment to listen for him getting up again. He doesn‘t and Niall hopes to God that it means he‘s actually going to stay the night. 

*

Harry's curled beside him when he wakes up, breathing steadily but his eyes are blinking sleepily open too. It's nice and warm under the covers and Niall feels like he could lie there all day but he slowly remembers that Zayn is in the other room and he needs to ask what happened last night. He sighs, rolling onto his back and away from Harry's stare to look at the ceiling. 

His stomach is still unsettled, just a faint niggle that something isn't right and when he drags himself out of bed and pulls on a ratty t-shirt that's lying on the floor he still can't shake it. 

"Breakfast?" Harry asks kicking the duvet the rest of the way off him too and sitting up, shivering in the morning air. "Does Zayn like eggs? Will I do a full fry up? Who is he? How does he take his tea?" 

Niall pauses and flicks his eyes up at Harry. He’s sitting in the middle of the bed and looks small surrounded by pillows and the duvet bunched under his arms. He adopts an innocent expression but Niall knows he really wants to know. 

“I think he takes two sugars,“ Niall mutters and Harry slides out of bed, staying silent. He seems to accept that Niall isn’t going to answer his other question so he nods again, face falling into a faint scowl before he pulls on one of Niall’s cardigans and shuffles out the door.

Niall takes his time, pulling on a pair of pyjama bottoms before following Harry out into the hallway. The door to Harry’s room opposite is ajar and Niall’s stomach sinks as he pushes it aside to see that the bed is empty inside. He’s about to call to Harry when the bathroom door opens and Zayn gingerly limps out into the hallway.

“How are you feeling?” Niall asks him, making a bee line to meet him and pulling him over to the window in the living room. He pulls the curtains and lets in the watery October sunlight so he can see his injuries better. 

“M’fine.” Zayn mutters trying to twist away from him. Harry bangs about the kitchen behind and Niall stubbornly refuses to let Zayn escape him.

“Let me see,” Niall insists holding him by the chin. “You’re not leaving here anytime soon anyway, you would’ve gone by now if you were.“ Zayn stares at him for a long moment before Niall sees the resignation in his eyes and he finally goes pliant, letting Niall manoeuvre him around to the light. “Hmm,” Niall hums and runs his thumb over the stitches on Zayn’s cheek, letting the bandage flip down after him. “You should probably let someone look at it in work. I can never do them right.” 

“Tell me this now why don’t you,” Zayn pouts dodging out of Niall’s arm and going over to peer into the mirror above the fireplace. Niall grins at him, tugging on his wrist and dragging him into the kitchen. Harry’s already got a pan on the stove and butter sizzling in it. He’s chopping something beside the fridge and hardly looks up when they both trail in. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly, eyes locked on his knife on the chopping board. Niall can hear the apprehension in his voice and he forgets for a moment that they’ve never met and don’t know each other. “Zayn, isn’t it? I‘m Harry.” 

“Yes. Much better than last night,” Zayn tells him, forcing a false brightness into his tone to appear polite. It’s slightly unnerving how well Niall’s gotten to know him in a matter of days they’ve spent together and even though it was nearly a month ago, he can tell what‘s genuine and what‘s not. “It’s really lovely to meet you Harry but I should probably go now.” 

Harry turns to look at him with narrowed eyes, flickering up his body and appraising the state of him. Niall laughs and shakes his head. 

"And where are you going to go?" Niall asks him because he’s not sure where he’s staying in London. Zayn glares at him across room, holding onto one of the chair backs to keep himself upright. "Sit down please, don't injure yourself more." 

“You can have breakfast," Harry offers him with a tight tone but Zayn's already shaking his head.

"Just tea," he snipes and settles into the chair Niall's holding out for him. Niall flicks on the kettle, his eyes never leaving Zayn as if he'll be able to sneak out without either of them noticing. 

Harry nods, turning back to the counter and getting on with things. Zayn huffs, staring moodily down at the table top and staying silent as they bustle around each other to get breakfast ready. 

Niall can feel his eyes following him as he sets the kettle up and pulls three mugs down from the cupboard above Harry’s head. 

“Three or four?” Harry asks him quietly, hand poised over the carton of eggs. He won’t meet his eyes so Niall reaches forward to crack a forth into the bowl for him and lets his hand brush the back of his palm on the way back. Harry stiffens with the gesture and Niall turns to put the bottle of orange juice onto the table Zayn is raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You never told me you had a boyfriend.” 

Niall freezes and there‘s a clatter behind him telling him that Harry just dropped his fork. 

“I don’t,” he says carefully, walking back to the table and refusing to turn around to see what Harry’s doing. He hears the scrape the fork in the bowl again and knows that he’s started to scramble the eggs again. 

Zayn smirks and looks completely disbelieving from where he’s lounged in one of the kitchen chairs. The light from the kitchen window throws his face into a sharp relief and he looks much more black and blue in the kitchen. 

“You sleep in the same bed,” Zayn laughs shallowly, working his palm over his side where his rib is acting up. Niall knew that there was another injury he was hiding from him. 

Niall opens his mouth and then closes it again painfully aware of the sizzle of the pan behind him and who’s cooking. He knows that it’s not the most normal situation but it really does work between him and Harry. Liam’s mentioned before how he thinks it’s odd when he’s stayed a few times after too many beers and he’s nearly sure that Louis has probably said to Harry about it. 

He shrugs, sitting down on the opposite chair carefully and risking a glance up at Harry’s tense shoulders. He reaches to the side to push the lever on the toaster before turning around with a weak grin.

“The house gets cold.” 

Zayn barks out a laugh and then winces because of the strain on his face. “Yeah right,” he mumbles, lifting a hand to rub at his cheek and slumping against the table. “This place is so fancy.” 

Niall laughs this time because it’s hardly fancy but Zayn shakes his head stubbornly. 

“Underneath all this hipstery shit it’s a fucking fancy flat,” Zayn tells him. Harry’s shoulders rise and he’s frowning when he turns around again, frying pan in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. 

“I bought all that hipstery shit,“ Harry defends the décor of the flat before shovelling the eggs onto two plates. “I like it like this. Niall‘s hardly here anyway.” 

Zayn snorts and Niall could nearly cut the tension in the room with a knife. From the corner of his eye he can see Harry’s face fall and he thinks that he’s going to retort but instead he just bites his lip and picks up the plates carefully to bring to the table. 

“Well,” he says calmly picking up a fork and sitting down between them. Niall watches with a bated breath. “It‘s better than nothing isn‘t it.” 

Zayn stares at him for a long moment before breaking into a smirk. He lifts his mug carefully and takes a sip before relaxing back into his chair and watching Harry eat. Niall feels uneasy and suddenly isn’t hungry anymore as he watches between them. It feels like they instantly dislike each other and he doesn’t know why he wants more than anything for them to get on. 

“Better than nothing,” Zayn repeats hollowly as Niall finally picks up his fork to push a bit of omelette across the plate and with a sinking feeling he doesn’t think that Zayn’s agreeing with him. Harry nods, hands tight around his cutlery as he refuses to look back up at him. 

*

Zayn’s still there by Sunday and he gets up early to start a roast. He can finally open both eyes fully again so Niall trusts that he can manage not to chop off a finger. It's not like they're bad cooks but Niall never has the patience to cook anything longer than twenty minutes and Harry skipped the Sunday Roast chapter in his quest to finish _Delia's Complete Guide to Cooking._

“Are you feeling better?” Niall asks him quietly when he gets out of bed and into the kitchen. He slides up to him beside the cooker where he’s putting butter into the peas and carving the roast already. Harry’s banging about in the living room, trying to be moody but Niall knows he’s secretly pleased he’s getting a proper dinner set down to him - even if it is Zayn who’s cooking it. 

“Yeah,” Zayn answers like he usually does when Niall asks him. He’s been quiet all week but Niall hadn’t expected anything different. He peeks up at him from under his still bruised eye and with shaky fingers sets down slices of beef onto Niall’s plate. Niall picks up a spoon and starts to dish up the vegetables. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Niall enquires for the forth time in as many days. He had decided to ask him because otherwise Zayn was likely to slip in and out of his bedroom after mealtimes without really talking about anything serious at all. He can feel Zayn tense beside him but he covers it well by plating up the roast potatoes. 

“No,” he answers predictably. Niall wonders if he asks him enough he’ll answer. He should probably up his asking to twice a day. 

“Well,” Niall sighs and pours gravy over the meat. “I’m here anytime you want to. Or - “ Zayn doesn’t move, hand poised over the bowl of carrots. “I can call Liam and get him to help.” 

“I don’t work for them,” Zayn mutters. “You know that.” 

“Yes,” Niall nods. “But I’m sure he’d be happy to help. We’ve all been there. You know that-” 

Zayn nods jerkily to make him stop talking and Niall takes a risk to pull him into a half hug. He’s stiff for a moment before finally melting into him. Niall’s stomach twists because he hasn‘t touched him like this since he‘s arrived. He can still hear Harry in the living room and he feels a little hot at the thought of Harry catching them. He can’t work out it if it’s a good or bad thing so he covers his confusion by grabbing two of the plates. 

When he turns he spots Harry lingering in the doorway, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. 

“Thanks,” he says tightly when Niall sets his plate at his usual spot and Zayn joins them at the table. 

"Is this how you're planning on contributing to rent?" Harry asks snarkily once they’ve all tucked in. Niall grins into his potatoes because over the week Harry and Zayn have developed quite a tremulous relationship full of sniping and insults. He was oddly proud when Harry stopped being so timid around Zayn and started being rude back.

"Sure Harry," Zayn smirks around his fork. "It'll be more than you contribute won't it?" 

Harry flushes and glares down at his plate. "I contribute," he states tersely, pushing his fork down into his mash. 

"Yeah," Zayn nods sarcastically. "You repay Niall in all that cuddling you two get up to. Did you not get hugged enough as a child." 

"Sounds like you're jealous," he snaps back. "All alone across the hall, in a cold and empty bed."

Zayn glares at him and they fall into stony silence once again. Niall looks between them both, not exactly sure what to do next so he stays quiet and watches as they both go back to their dinner. Harry picks through his plate, lip curled before he picks up a forkful of parsnip.

"Neither of us eat parsnip," he snaps childishly and Niall bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. Before Niall can stop him, Harry flings it across the table and it lands on Zayn's shirt where it leaves a gravy brown splodge. There's a second of silence before he's laughing, Niall easily joining in. Harry looks like he's going to be stubbornly silent before he cracks and offers them a grin, shovelling a forkful of carrots into his mouth.

*

The first one comes on a Tuesday and Niall’s first thought is that he’s grateful he got to the post before Harry. It’s in a normal envelope with his name printed across the front and Niall thinks very little of opening it. He nearly laughs when it unfolds the paper because the message is spelled out in letters cut out from newspaper and it’s so clichéd that for a moment Niall wonders if it’s Harry taking the piss. A second and third arrive but it’s not until the fourth that he begins to worry. It’s got no stamp, no post date. In fact it’s a blank envelope with no address or post code. The message is typed - there’s no signs of yesterday’s Daily Mail chopped up inside but instead a few short lines that warns him that they’re watching him. 

It doesn’t say who _they_ are but Niall’s got a feeling it’s the woman from Morocco and whatever fucked up group she‘s helping to run. He knows he’s pissed her off but he hadn’t exactly thought that he would start a vendetta. 

"Hurry up!" Harry yells and bangs on the bathroom door again. Niall jumps even though he’s the whole way at the other end of the flat and nowhere near him. It sends a gush of ice through his gut though because if they’re watching him - they’re watching Harry too. 

"He's taking the piss!" Harry exclaims when he appears in the door to the hallway. Niall turns around from the door, shoving the envelope in the waistband of his trousers and thrusting the rest of the post at Harry. 

Niall forces a smile on his face when he pads past him, listening as Zayn whistles louder. He's probably not even in the shower anymore, just sitting by the door to make Harry wait. He knows that these arguments are just a way of them testing each others boundaries and it’s sometimes fun to watch them get all riled up about each other. 

Yesterday, it had been because Harry had drank the last of the orange juice and the day before it was Zayn who set off the smoke alarm by ‘accident’ and woke Harry up. Niall can hear them arguing in the hallway now and he presumes that Zayn has finally came out of the bathroom. 

"I'm going to be late!" Harry moans, storming into the kitchen. "That dickhead used _all_ the towels, he has one around his head, for fucks sake his hair isn't that precious. I want to shave it off and see what he'll do then without his pretentious quiff!" 

Niall doesn't mention that Harry's just as protective over his own hair but nods along, instead pouring boiling water over a teabag, also not mentioning that Harry owns the shop he works at and can be as late as he wants. Harry appears back in the kitchen a moment later, two slightly damp towels in his hand and frown still on his face. He opens his mouth to rant some more but Niall stops him, catching his wrist and pulling him in close. 

"He doesn't hate you," Niall laughs at his pouty face and decides to let him out of his misery. "He's _flirting_."

Harry nearly chokes on his laugh, lifting his head to cackle loudly into the kitchen. "Good one Niall!" 

Niall goes back to stirring his tea as Harry slopes back out of the kitchen, frown deepening as he goes. 

By the time Niall gets back into his bedroom to find a shirt he can wear to work Zayn is walking out of the bathroom, his hair damp and ruffled from the towel in his hand. He’s back in a pair of pyjama bottoms but he’s forgone the shirt. 

“Need help with that?” he asks quietly and looks pointedly at the tie in his hands. Niall’s never been good at tying them and he’s been staring in the mirror with two ends of cheap navy silk in each of his hands. 

“Sure,” Niall shrugs and raises his eyebrows at his reflection in the mirror. “You any good at them?” 

“The best,” Zayn laughs breathily. 

All thoughts of the letter in his back pocket leave his mind as Zayn takes a step forward, moulding himself to his back and Niall only has to lean back to be against his chest. Zayn’s arm comes up around his chest easily and he catches his stare in the mirror as he lifts one end of the tie and he rubs the material between his thumb and finger. 

Zayn doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes trained to Niall’s in the mirror and Niall’s having one of those moments where he thinks he can’t breathe again. His chest is tight and he’s so aware of when Zayn drops the fabric to place his palm flush on his sternum instead. Niall heaves a breath, feeling the weight of his hand as it moves with him. He looks silly in the mirror, blush working its way up the back of his neck and the way his jaw has fallen open but he doesn’t care because Zayn is behind him, skin warm where they meet and arms stable around him. Niall rocks back on his heels so he can lean on him properly, pulling him in tight to hug around his chest. He turns his head slowly to the side and Niall can feel his breath there, warming his neck before he noses along his hairline. 

“Oh,” Harry’s voice is faint from the doorway, towel limp in his hand and toothbrush in the other. “Um - “

Zayn lets go of him quickly but doesn’t jerk fully away. Niall spins round and tries to think of an excuse but he isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to be excusing anyway so he just stares at Harry as he quietly backs out of the room. Zayn doesn’t say anything either, glancing at Niall sheepishly before following Harry into the hallway, leaving Niall sort of dumbstruck in front of the mirror. 

He shakes his shoulders and hastily grabs both ends of the tie to knot them together. It looks ridiculous, skewed to the left and oddly out of shape but he doesn’t care anymore. He can hear Harry banging about in the hot press and the slamming of a door. 

"You fucker!" Harry yells a moment later. "What are you doing _back_ in the bathroom? You‘ve been there all morning!" 

Niall snorts despite himself, pulling on his coat because it looks like it could rain. He pauses in the doorway to his room to take a breath against the doorframe to listen to them. He can hear Zayn’s response muffled through the bathroom door before the click of the lock and Harry starting to argue with him again. Niall likes it like this, a full house and them bickering down the hall and his heart jumps into his throat as the letter springs back into his mind. He’s not sure what he would do if they ever got hurt. 

“See you later!” he calls into the rest of the house, shaking himself together again. He doesn’t expect a response so he slips out of the house before he can get dragged in to mediate their row. 

It takes Niall twenty minutes to get to his office, the official base is over in Vauxhall Cross but the building that Niall does most of his work in just across the river and disguised as an old bank building. Everyone looks very serious in their slick suits and Niall is grateful for the hundredth time in his life that he doesn’t have to work here 24/7. He pulls at his tie as he steps into the lift and jabs the button for the fifth floor. 

His desk is a mess and Niall can only stare forlornly down at it because he has no idea where to start. There’s a thin layer of dust on everything so he assumes that Liam hasn’t been helping him out with any of his paperwork while he was away. 

"And where have you been?" Liam pops out of nowhere. Niall jumps and curses the fact that he can do that even when he’s only had the basic field training. 

"Why didn't you do any of my paperwork?" he asks instead, flopping down into his chair and Liam laughs sarcastically. 

"Sorry," he mutters not sounding very sorry at all. "Too busy keeping your skinny arse alive." 

“Yeah right,” Niall snorts but deep down he knows that Liam has pulled him out of some tight spots in the past. They’ve dodged around the topic of Morocco for the past month and Niall has no intentions of bringing it up today, even with the weight of the letter at the back of his mind, so he’s glad when Liam doesn’t use his joke as a way to push the issue further. Liam drops into the seat beside him instead, watching as Niall rifles through some files until he finds the one he needs before hunting through his drawers for a pen. 

“So I hear you have a visitor?” Liam asks too casually, pulling a biro out of his pocket and handing it over. 

“A visitor?” Niall asks, matching Liam’s casual tone and swirling a loop of ink onto a post-it to make sure the pen’s working. He runs his fingers over the edge of it as he does and checks that it is _just_ a biro because Liam sometimes has a habit of sneaking down into the gadget division and helping himself to a few contraptions. Liam smirks at him and wheels closer until they’re broth squished into Niall’s cubicle, knees knocking under his table. 

“Malik,” Liam hisses under his breath, watching as Niall scratches his employee number into the top of the form with the plain old biro. 

“You been keeping tabs on me?” Niall whispers back because the woman in the next cubicle over is coming back from the printer and Niall doesn’t want to her to over hear.

“Of course,” Liam shrugs letting his face relax and Niall can see how earnest he looks. “That’s my job isn’t it.” 

Niall sighs and puts his pen down, there’s no point trying to do work with Liam nattering in his ear. 

“Yeah,” he mutters and leans back in his chair with a groan. “I don’t know what he’s got himself into but he needed a place to stay.” 

Liam frowns at him for a moment and Niall takes the opportunity to change the subject. 

“Any developments of the Crazy Lady?” Niall asks instead and Liam snorts.

“The alias she used in Casablanca turns out to be fake, she doesn’t exist,” Liam fills him in. 

“Shocker,” Niall mutters to make Liam grin. 

“We’re still working on getting her real name but I don’t think she’s the command, there’s someone higher than her,” Liam sighs. “He keeps well hidden.” 

“Is he at least in the UK?” Niall asks because what should’ve been a quick and easy defence plan has turned into a few months of running around like a headless chicken. 

Liam shrugs. “Should be, from what we’ve gathered. There seems to be a group in Paris but the DGSE seem to have a good tab on them. They aren’t very active and the only concrete link that we have is the murder of the French Ambassador in June.” 

Niall nods, doodling on the corner of his paper. 

“We’ve narrowed it down that recruitment is going on around universities in the North. Probably under the guise of a global warming interest group.” Liam tells him but Niall already knew that. They fall into relative silence and Niall draws a hat on his little stick drawing before turning to look at Liam. He’s still frowning and Niall knows he wants to talk about him more about Zayn.

“Spit it out,” Niall sighs throwing his pen at him. It bounces off his arm and rolls back over to Niall. 

“I just want you to be careful,” Liam warns but Niall shrugs it off because Liam’s a worrywart at the best of times. “They’ve got a look at you now and they know Zayn so him staying with you probably isn’t for the best. Two birds with one stone and all that.” 

“Yes I know,” Niall sighs and picks up the pen again, turning his drawing into a mouse. “But I can hardly just throw him out onto the street.” 

Liam frowns over at him, rolling the chair closer if that’s even possible with how close they already are. 

“Niall, you hardly know him,” he mutters very quietly, watching Niall’s hand still around his pen. “You need to focus at what’s really happening here, focus on your work and the mission,” he pauses and swallows before adding quietly, “and Harry.” 

Niall swallows. He knew it wouldn’t be long until Liam would be picking away at the reasoning for his and Zayn’s friendship. He draws an eye patch on his little mouse and turns to laugh Liam off.

“Well I would focus on my work if I had been cleared to go and you know do some actual work?” Niall complains. He knows he sounds bitter but it’s been _weeks_ and Niall would really like to have some purpose in his afternoons other than laundry. Liam pulls a face and his lips pushes out into a pout. 

“Promise to be careful?” Liam asks him quietly with a too serious tone. 

“Will do Penfold,” Niall mock salutes him with a wry grin that he finds trouble keeping on his face. 

Liam scowls, rolling his eyes and cheeks pinking. “Yes, Chief.”

Niall laughs gleefully, picking up his pen again when Liam sinks back into his chair and Niall decides their previous conversation is over. “What did you call that mission in Antigua?” 

“Niall that was over a year ago!” Liam cries, reaching forward to wrench the file out of his hand. “No wonder Head Office bloody hates you.” 

Niall grins, relaxing back into his chair and watching as Liam takes over his paperwork. 

*

He realises that Zayn’s basically moved in when he goes away for the weekend for work. It’s quiet with only him and Harry pottering about and when Harry leaves for the shop on Saturday morning Niall is at a true loss of what to do. He notices constant reminders of Zayn dotted around the flat, his shoes lined up at the door beside his own and the ashtray that used to sit empty on the coffee table is now on the windowsill beside the door to the balcony. 

He starts to tidy up, pulling the washing out of the machine and draping it over the rickety clothes horse in the utility room and throwing Harry’s socks over the radiator. There’s a pile of jumpers and Zayn’s ratty pyjama bottoms in the corner so Niall goes through the house, dropping the little piles of clothes into his and Harry’s room before moving across the hall into Zayn’s. It’s then that he realises that it _is_ Zayn’s room and no longer Harry’s. It’s full of all of his things and smells like him and Niall finds he isn’t as worried about it as he probably should be. 

He spends the rest of the day flicking through the football on the TV and eating noodles straight for the pan but doesn’t brighten up really until Harry walks through the door just after six. There's a sheen of rain over his shoulders and he shrugs his jumper off right there in the front hall before burrowing into Niall’s blanket and leeching all the warmth from him.

“Have you heard from him?” he asks without saying hello properly and refuses to look up and meet Niall’s eyes. Niall shakes his head and runs his hand into Harry’s hair, watching as he relaxes nearly immediately.

“No,” he murmurs. “You know we don’t make contact when we’re away.” 

Harry pouts, softening against him and shaping himself to his side. “I thought maybe you had different rules between you lot. Make an exception or something?” 

Niall snorts and pulls at where Harry’s elbow is digging into his waist. “’Fraid not.”

Harry sighs into Niall’s chest before pulling his free hand up and biting at his nail. “He said he would be home by today though.” 

“Zayn is really good at looking after himself,“ Niall replies and watches the adverts on the TV for a moment before smiling softly down at him. “Why don’t you just admit that you care about him?” he asks quietly feeling the way Harry tenses beside him. 

“I don’t,” he tries to defend himself but Niall can see through it. 

“It’s alright if you do y’know,” Niall murmurs and scratches at his scalp again to make him relax. “He’s your friend,” Harry snorts softly at that, “roommate then?” Niall amends and Harry rolls away as far as the back of the sofa will allow him. He’s still squished against him when he looks up with a small smile. 

“Roommate,” he affirms before sitting up and looking round at him. “How about we go out and get really drunk? I’ve had a shit day.” 

Niall grins at him, because he’s getting sick of staring at the same walls all day and the prospect of beer lets him let Harry‘s change of conversation slide. 

“Yes,“ Niall smiles, untangling himself from his cocoon of blankets. Harry grins at him, jumping off the sofa with a punch to the air. 

They make it as far as the little pub down on the corner of their street. It’s in an old building but inside has been revamped into a swanky bar. It’s relatively quiet and they’re able to get a little booth that’s close enough to grab the barman’s attention but far away enough that they can just keep to themselves if the want to. Harry relaxes into his side under the dim lighting and cradles a bottle of beer close to his chest as he peers at him, suddenly shy. 

“What is it?” Niall asks him quietly. Someone’s stuck a song on the duke box and it drowns out some of his words but Niall understands him anyway. 

“I am worried about him,” he admits quietly, ducking his head and supping on his drink. Niall smiles and feels something go liquid warm inside his belly. “Just like I worry about you.” 

Niall sort of wants to kiss him but he doesn’t because Harry frowns at him for a moment, like he can’t quite work out what’s going on in his head so Niall stays silent because he can’t really think of anything to say that would help him. Harry just gives him another shy but significant look and changes the subject to the football that’s playing on mute up on the TV in the corner. 

By the time they’re going home Niall’s drank enough whiskey to feel warm outside even though it’s absolutely freezing. Harry's giggling against his neck as they stagger up the street and it seems like the next logical step in his hazy brain to kiss him. He had been thinking about it all night so why not?

"What was that for?" Niall asks even though he had instigated it. They're in the porch of their door, the light above them flickering slightly and he can see Harry's wide eyes and mouth forming a perfect 'o'. 

"Because - " he starts and breaks off again to swallow thickly. Niall watches his Adam's apple bob for a moment before pressing forward and kissing him again. Harry groans into it, clutching at the back of his neck and pulling him in closer. 

"Niall," Harry gasps when Niall gets him against the wall, keys clattering to the floor when his hand tangles in Harry's hair. He makes another noise into Niall's mouth before he breaks away gasping again. "Please, please, pleasepleaseplease," he babbles, sealing their mouths together before he swoops down to grab the keys and push them into the door. 

It’s dark in the living room because Zayn mustn’t be home yet and they stagger through it without flicking on the lights, only bumping into the back of the armchair once as they try to kiss and navigate their way through the house at the same time. 

"Please," he whispers again once they've made it to the bedroom and Niall has his hands on Harry's belt, unbuckling it quickly and nibbling down his jaw. He can’t believe he’s begging and it just makes his fingers fumble more.

"Yeah," he breathes into the juncture of Harry's neck and shoulder, biting down and licking over the skin. Harry shivers, gasping a breath and Niall can feel him deliberately grinding up against him. Niall has to catch his breath against Harry's shoulder. "Yeah, yeah," he mutters pushing him down on the bed and climbing over him. 

Harry grins, taking a moment to look at him before pulling him back down into a kiss. Niall's mind reels, catching up with how much of a big deal this is. He kisses him easily, grinding down and listening to the little noises at the back of Harry's throat. 

Their clothes come off easily, Harry flinging his shirt across the room and scrabbling at the buttons of Niall’s jeans, pulling them jerkily down over his thighs and rolling them over in all one motion. Niall gasps up at the ceiling as Harry slides down his body, lips mouthing at patches of skin and just grazing his teeth over his hipbone until he can settle between Niall’s legs and nibble at the spot of sensitive skin on the inside of his thigh. 

“Fuck Harry,” Niall garbles, pushing a hand into Harry’s hair and tugging at it to get him to get on with it. 

“Yeah,” he breathes over the material of Niall’s boxers, licking along the waistband before he can pull them down to get a hand around his dick and suck him into his mouth, licking around him until he‘s hard and panting. 

Niall can hardly think straight, his mind not stretching much further than the slippery heat of Harry’s mouth. It’s quick and messy, Harry humming around him, bobbing his head and pushing his fingers into the side of Niall’s waist until he’s coming hotly down his throat. 

Harry grins at him, licking his lips and sliding up the bed so he can kiss him tightly on the mouth. 

“That ok?” Harry asks quietly with a small smile that doesn’t quite hide how smug he looks. Niall can’t help giggle into his neck before rolling them over until he can return the favour. 

*

Niall’s mouth is dry and gummy when he wakes up. It takes him a few minutes to gather himself enough to swallow heavily and roll over. He’s met with a patch of very empty bed and his stomach near drops clean out of his belly. He takes a breath before he realises that he can hear the pound of the shower and Harry faintly singing odd lines out of some pop song that’s been stuck in his head for days. 

Zayn clears his throat from the doorway and Niall groans because he already has a smug grin on his face making Niall panic for a moment that he was actually home last night.

“Miss me?” Zayn asks sickly sweet and steps into the room properly. 

“No,” Niall moans and buries his face into the pillow. It smells of Harry’s shampoo and faintly of Zayn which Niall has no way to explain. He stays there though, breathing the mix of them in. 

“Because you had a nice distraction from missing me too much?” Zayn laughs and Niall can feel the bed dip beside him. Niall groans again because the thought of Zayn overhearing them is making his dick twitch and he doesn’t want to deal with that right now on top of everything. Zayn chuckles and a hand swipes through his hair, patting him carefully enough until Niall feels brave enough to roll over and look up at him. 

It’s like Zayn can read his mind because he just grins at him, ruffling his hair again, “I arrived back this morning.” 

Niall nods and can’t tell if his shoulders are sagging from relief or disappointment. He mentally kicks himself because he shouldn’t be thinking of this when he and Harry just had sex. 

"Harry was looking very," he pauses for a moment, holding his knuckles to Niall’s forehead and pressing them gently against his temple. Niall stares back up at him, curling his fingers tighter in the duvet and smelling the faint scent of his aftershave under the recycled airport smell that’s clinging to his jacket. "Blissed. He even gave me a hug!" 

Niall sighs, snuggling down into the covers and trying to ignore the way Zayn is still sniggering. “Surprised the bed’s still standing to be honest.” 

"Shut up," Niall mutters, rolling away when Zayn tries to tug on his hair but he can’t get very far in his cocoon of blankets so Zayn is able to pat at his cheek anyway. 

"Mornin'," Harry mutters from the doorway and Niall turns his head to look over at him. He's only got a towel slung around his waist and Niall blushes when his eyes catch the bruises across his hips and across his collarbone. Zayn sniggers again but Niall manages to keep his reaction centred in the pinking of his cheeks. Harry doesn't say anything either, just drops the towel and rifles through a drawer in search of a pair of boxers. Niall can feel the flush on his cheeks heat up and Zayn just laughs giddily from where he’s settled beside Niall at the headboard. 

Niall wonders what’s changed - because something definitely has. Harry seems so much more relaxed around Zayn now as he crawls into the bed, half dressed on the other side of Zayn and sitting up against the pillows. Zayn turns his head to grin up at him from where he’s squashed in between them and Niall knows this wouldn’t have been able to happen a week ago. 

“I’m glad you’re home ok,“ Harry tells him quietly, kicking his legs into the middle to steal some of his heat. Zayn’s face suddenly evens out as he catches the serious tone to Harry’s voice. 

“Worried about me Styles?” he asks but it’s gentle, like he can’t make fun of him. Harry smiles softly, glancing down at him quickly before looking away to pick at the duvet. Zayn’s shuffled a bit closer to him subconsciously and Harry’s thumb suddenly inches out to rub over the pinkish scar running across his brow. Zayn freezes under him and throws a glance over at Niall. Niall’s frozen in his spot too, because even if it isn’t exactly the post coital cuddle that Niall had envisioned it seems like an important moment between the three of them. 

“Yeah,” Harry says faintly, pressing his thumb against Zayn’s temple before drawing away. He glances up at Niall and smiles sheepishly under his gaze, cheeks finally pinking up when he realises what he’s done. 

“Well,“ Harry chuckles and looks between them two of them. “I need to get to work.“ 

He shivers a bit when he gets out of bed and throws a glance over his shoulder before bending down to look for a pair of jeans. Niall snorts because he wiggles his bum, fully aware that they‘re both staring at him before he finds a pair and pulls them on. It‘s sort of like a reverse strip tease and Niall shouldn‘t really find it as hot as he does. He clears his throat, shifting about on the pillows and Zayn makes a slightly disgruntled noise beside him. 

Harry, sadly fully dressed now, hesitates for a split second by the end of the bed before leaning over Zayn to press his lips against Niall’s in a quick, dry kiss. He ducks his head shyly when he pulls away, grinning at them before disappearing out the door with a quiet “see y’later.” 

Zayn raises his eyebrows at Niall once Harry‘s footsteps have died away and the front door slams shut. “Have you changed him or something? You got magic in that dick of yours?” 

Niall thinks about ignoring him but he can’t help laughing at Zayn’s raised eyebrow, “Turns out he missed you.” 

Zayn’s face slides into a smug grin and Niall nearly regrets telling him because it stays on his face for the rest of the day. 

*

It’s just beginning to rain when Niall steps out of the shop and pulls the door tight behind him. He locks up as if on autopilot, key in the door and then the shutter. He’s just clicking the padlock when he notices a figure at the bottom of the side alleyway. There’s a spike of panic in his gut but it dulls when he recognises the worn leather jacket and the way his shoulders are shaped against the rain. 

"You coming to walk me home stud?“ Niall calls out playfully when he gets the last of the locks across. Zayn jumps and it's the first time Niall's been able to sneak up on him so he feels a bit smug. 

Zayn's turning on him and pushing him behind the wall. It’s so quick that Niall has hardly time to scramble for footing and before he really knows it he’s pressed against cold brick with Zayn’s arm against his throat. Niall fights to keep his face neutral but he’s beginning to realise that Zayn hadn’t been waiting for him. 

"What the fuck Niall?" Zayn bites out eyes narrowing in on him. 

“What are you doing?” Niall gasps a breath because Zayn’s arm on him is starting to burn. “You’re not here to meet me?” 

Zayn frowns at him, eyes darting to the shop and then back at Niall again. “What are you doing at the shop? I thought you were supposed to be in the office?” 

Niall frowns because he doesn’t remember ever telling Zayn his plans for the day and anyway what did it matter if he covered for Harry in the shop this afternoon. 

"What. Are. You. Doing?" Niall asks again and Zayn hisses out a breath through his teeth. 

"Surveillance, what do you think I'm doing?" He steps back and Niall can finally breathe properly. 

"What sort of surveillance?” Niall asks and he can’t help feel suspicious. “You’re just off a job, how come you’re on another one already. And it’s so close to home?” 

Zayn rolls his eyes and peers around the corner of the building again before swearing and leaning back against the brick beside Niall. "Fuck, he's gone."

"Who?" Niall asks ducking away from him to look around the corner himself. He only sees the last of the market goers and he doesn’t spot anyone suspicious through the mass of umbrellas and coats. 

Zayn doesn’t answer, just shifts his weight and avoids Niall’s stare. Niall can’t explain the feeling in his gut so he stays his ground and tries to catch his eye. 

“That’s a classified document,” Niall points out, spying the manila folder in the gap between his chest and his coat. He tries to ignore the thrill that runs down his spine because it‘s been _ages_ since he‘s got his hands on an actual job with field work. His fingers are itching to reach out and grab it and shove himself into whatever Zayn‘s investigating but he doesn‘t. “You shouldn’t have that, and you definitely shouldn’t be reading it on the street.” 

Zayn stares at him. “I know that Niall.” 

“Well, why do you have it then?” Niall asks and he has a feeling that Zayn’s going to dodge the question again. Instead Zayn presses in close again, trapping him against the wall and Niall has a fleeting moment of panic before his heart beats a little slower because this is Zayn and he’s pretty sure he knows him well enough by now to trust him. He can’t help the doubt creeping into his mind with every second that Zayn keeps him pinned to the wall. 

“Are you investigating me?” Niall finally asks him because he would be rubbish at his job if he hadn’t noticed that Zayn was working on _something_ the past couple of weeks. Zayn looks offended for a moment before shaking his head. 

“Course not.”

He eases up a bit and Niall can move his arms again, a few people are looking at them now but Niall knows it’s more because they’re standing pressed up against a wall in the middle of a downpour rather than because it looks shady. _“Harry?”_

Zayn actually rolls his eyes and steps back, tucking the folder further into his jacket and looking at him with a quirked eyebrow. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he states and reaches a hand out. Niall stares at it for a moment before realising that he’s allowed to take it. Zayn squeezes his fingers for a moment and sighs out, pulling him closer so Niall’s not against the cold wall anymore. “I don’t want to tell you, please, don’t ask anymore questions.” 

Niall hesitates for a moment, he wants to know what’s going on but he knows that if Zayn doesn’t want him to know - he won’t find out. 

“If it gets serious,” Niall compromises and squeezes his hand back. “If it gets dangerous and you get into trouble, you’ll tell me right?” 

Zayn hesitates but nods quietly, pulling him in so they can hug. “Promise,” he whispers into the hair just behind Niall’s ear and slides his lips across his cheek before pulling back. “You heading home?” 

Niall nods, heart starting to beat faster at the contact of his lips. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s aware that Zayn’s probably done it to throw him off and he knows he should be angry because it’s working. 

“No, have a thing to leave into the office,” Niall mutters faintly and tries not to lean into Zayn too much. He’s not allowed to do that and he has to tell himself firmly to take a step back before he can get his feet to move. Zayn smiles at him, lips turning up at the edges as he crosses his arms over his chest and Niall blinks to clear his head. “You?” 

“Yeah,” Zayn nods and gives him a brief smile. Niall tries not to think too much about how he looks sort of relieved. “I’ll see you there then?” 

Niall nods, mind reeling as Zayn turns on his heel and walks off through the rain. He’s distracted through the meeting with Liam and not really paying attention until Liam sighs beside him and just sends him home. 

Harry’s stretched out across Zayn when he gets there. Zayn’s petting his hair like a cat and it’s jarring for a moment because he’s so used to seeing them bicker and avoid each other all the time. 

Harry grins slowly up at him, blinking sleepily. Niall hadn't realised it was as it late as it but Zayn's flickering over to the ten o'clock news now that Harry's not interested in whatever they had been watching before. 

"There's dinner in the oven," Harry tells him with a small smile, rolling off of Zayn to sit beside him properly. Niall nods numbly, he wants to squeeze himself into the space between his two boys and just sit there. Harry’s already up and moving in the direction of the kitchen by the time Niall realises he’s just referred to them both as _his boys._

"Zayn made it," Harry’s telling him when Niall finally reaches the kitchen. He feels in a bit of a daze as he watches Harry fuss about at the cooker, putting a plate into the microwave and making him a drink. "It's really good," he tacks on at the end with a genuine smile and Niall has to scour his mind for the last time Harry complimented Zayn. He uncaps a beer and slides it across the marble for Niall to take, brushing his fingers against his wrist. They're cold from the bottle but Niall feels his skin tingle all the same. Harry just smiles at him, warm and open until the microwave dings a minute later. 

"Thanks," Niall mumbles when Harry pushes the hot plate into his hand and cutlery in the other. 

"No problem," he grins and sneaks in to press a chaste kiss against his cheek. He looks shy when he pulls back and Niall finds himself leaning forward to brush his lips against Harry’s cheek in reply. Nothing has changed between them post-drunken-sex - they haven‘t done it again but Niall would be lying to himself if he hadn’t been feeling different around him the past few days and even thinking about it makes Niall’s stomach go all fluttery. 

"I'm going to bed, I have to be up early for the delivery." He pauses, catching Niall around the wrist to keep him in the kitchen a moment longer and Niall wishes he could move, the plate's nearly burning his fingers off. He stares down at where Harry‘s ling fingers are wrapped around his wrist, thumb pressed to his pulse point. "I'll see you there?" 

Oh. 

Niall feels his neck bend before he’s even thought about properly and Harry’s grin is nearly blinding when he looks up at him. 

"Night then," he giggles, letting go of Niall’s wrist and slipping back into the living room. He waves a goodnight to Zayn, finally blushing at the smirk on Zayn‘s face because walls are thin and he knows. 

"Well," Zayn laughs quietly when Niall sinks into the sofa beside him. He flicks the TV over when the weather comes on. "He's definitely more happy." 

"Yeah," Niall answers non-commitedly hoping his tone won't encourage Zayn to continue teasing. 

"Better keep it down," he warns and Niall swallows thickly through a mouthful of rice. It’s tasteless on his tongue and Niall can’t think straight. He’s finally got Harry, something he’s been wanting for a long time but it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right to have Zayn out here, tucked in nice and close, shoulder pressed to his as he flicks through channels and knowing that Harry’s in the other room, waiting on him. 

He wants to ask Zayn about this afternoon but Zayn skirts around the topic, keeping his tone as light as he can even though Niall can hear the slight edge underneath it all so he keeps his mouth shut and picks through the rest of his meal. He stares at the TV without really taking anything in for the first hour and another after Zayn goes off to bed. It’s not that he’s scared of going to bed, but he’s aware that once he walks through the door, he’s entered into _something_ with Harry even if he’s not sure what the fuck it is. 

Harry’s curled under the covers when Niall finally gathers the nerve to go to bed. The lamp in the corner is on but Harry doesn’t move when Niall slips through the door. He’s shuffles about when Niall gets his trousers off and slides in beside him but his eyes are still shut and he can‘t tell if he‘s woken up or not. He turns into him, lips brushing against Niall’s skin as Niall gathers him up under one of his arms.

“Night,” he mutters and presses a kiss into his hair. It’s quiet and Niall can hear the beat of his own heart. He isn’t sure what to expect and in reality it isn’t much different to all the other nights they’ve spent together in here. Harry snuffles again against his collar and Niall peers down at him, face soft and lax with sleep and Niall can’t help but pull him closer. 

He’s half asleep a few hours later, head pressed against the pillow when he feels Harry shift behind him. 

"You awake?" he murmurs against the back of his neck. His breath is hot and it ghosts down across the top of his spine. He can feel Harry’s lips there, a firm pressure but not really doing anything against his skin

“Mmmhmm.” Niall hums because he can’t crack open an eyelid never mind open his mouth. 

“C’mon Niall,” Harry whispers, lips rubbing against his skin now. They pout into a kiss and Niall can feel just the hint of Harry’s tongue before they disappear again. “Wake up.”

“Just went to bed,” Niall mumbles, moving his face out of the pillow properly. The room is dark with only a slice of light from under the door creeping in. Harry takes that moment to press flush against him and _oh_ that’s why he’s awake.

He can feel the hard press of him against the small of his back and he moves back against him instinctively. Harry breathes out shakily into his ear, his mouth moving around to press against the spot just below his ear. 

“Yeah?” he asks quietly, licking out to catch his skin before he nibbles gently on the place he just licked. Niall honestly wants to sleep, his limbs feel heavy but his body betrays him, heart speeding up and stomach twisting with every slow grind of Harry‘s hips.

“Yeah,” he sighs, pushing back against Harry properly and earning a whimper in response. He turns his head so he can catch Harry‘s lips properly, licking into his mouth sloppily because of the angle. When Niall goes to roll over Harry shakes his head, kissing him harder and clamping an arm over his waist so he can thumb along the edge of Niall‘s boxers. 

“Don‘t move,” he mutters against his chin, rubbing his cheek against his jaw as he splays his hand over Niall‘s belly and pushes the pads of his fingers against his hip. “Like this.” 

Niall whines because a few minutes ago he was asleep and now Harry‘s got him all worked up. He can feel the blood rushing through him when Harry grinds into him again, sucking a bruise onto his shoulder and pushing at the waistband of his boxers. 

Niall kicks them off, wriggling in the little space Harry‘s arm allows him before he‘s back pressed flush against Harry. 

“What - “ Niall starts but he‘s cut off when Harry wraps a loose hand around his dick, pulling up slowly and teasingly twisting around the head. “What do you want?” 

Harry takes a moment to answer but Niall hardly notices because his focus is closing in to only concentrate on Harry‘s hand circled around him and his dick, heavy against the top of his arse. 

“You,” he nearly growls, hitching up to kiss him again. Niall can feel the heat of his palm on his side, smoothing down his skin until it’s curving around his bum and down the back of his thigh. Niall gasps, Harry’s fingers trailing over his skin before pushing between his thighs. His hand stills for a moment giving Niall just a second to catch his breath before Harry’s fingertips trail up to brush over just behind his balls. He shivers and Harry laughs huskily into his ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth making Niall buck his hips involuntarily. Niall rolls onto his back and gets a hand in Harry‘s hair. It’s awkward because Harry’s hand is still settled between his legs but Niall somehow manages to pull him over his side to kiss him. Harry pulls back with a laugh, untangling himself from Niall with an excited grin. 

Niall misses the press of his skin when he disappears off the other side of the bed, scrambling for something on the floor. He’s back within moments with a bottle of lube and Niall feels his face start to heat up at the thought of Harry going out this afternoon and buying it. He rolls Niall back onto his side again, running a hand over his thigh again before he’s shifting his leg forward and out of the way for a moment. His hand comes back slick and Niall tries not to jump at the cool spreading over his skin. Harry’s thumb rubs briefly up the cleft of his arse, making his stomach clench and anticipation grow in his belly because he doesn‘t know what Harry‘s planning really. 

“Harry,” he whines, inching over onto his front and grinding helplessly down on the mattress. Harry laughs breathlessly behind him for a moment, a hand coming down onto his hip to bring him back onto his side. 

Niall isn’t expecting the first slide of Harry‘s dick between his thighs and it’s odd for a moment until Harry wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him back against him to change the angle. Niall fights to keep his breath as he clamps his thighs shut, listening for the hitch in Harry‘s breath and the way he pants into his neck. 

“Niall,” he moans into the nape of his neck and tightens his hand on his hip. Niall rocks back into him, feeling the way Harry can push easily through the sweat and slick of his thighs. 

“Ah,” Niall can‘t help himself when Harry‘s dick nudges at the back of his balls and he matches Harry‘s thrusts to get him to do it again. Harry‘s mouthing at his shoulder now, his face angled low with not enough concentration to even try and make his mouth kiss him.

“Fuck,” Harry groans as he pulls back too far and his dick slips up into the cleft of Niall‘s arse. Niall loses his breath for a moment, rolling further into Harry‘s chest and tipping them over until Harry’s on his back and he‘s nearly on top of him. Harry bucks up, his arm tightening around Niall‘s waist before he‘s spilling between them, come dripping down Niall‘s arse and thighs. 

“Shit,” Harry breathes, throwing a hand up over his eyes and leaving the other one loosely slung around Niall’s waist. “Sorry,” 

Niall doesn’t care though and he rolls over as soon as he can, slotting a leg between Harry’s and grinding into his hip instead. Harry grins at him lazily, pulling him in close to kiss him hard and run a hand down his back. Niall can’t help groan into his mouth when he feels Harry’s fingertips drag through the mess he made, dipping into his arse and skimming over his hole. 

“C’mon,” he whispers against Niall’s lips when they pull apart. “Come on Niall.” 

Niall grinds down again, licking back into his mouth and muffling the sound he makes when he comes across Harry’s hip and stomach. 

They lie for a moment, just breathing against each other’s lips before Niall can feel himself getting sticky already. 

“Shower,” he sighs quietly. Harry pouts against him and makes no attempt to move. 

Niall can feel his eyes droop with sleep and he feels nice draped across Harry, with Harry’s hand still on the curve of his arse and the other one stroking his waist gently. 

“You’re gonna regret in the morning,” Niall warns but Harry just shakes his head, nuzzling in closer to whisper in his ear. 

“Go to sleep Niall,” and with a faint brush of lips against his cheek Niall’s out for the count. 

*

“You’re basically boyfriends y’know.” Zayn tells him matter of factly and throws in another pack of pasta into the trolley. Niall rolls his eyes, wheeling the trolley on down the aisle and picking up a box of rice. An extra person in the house quickly makes them run out of things and Niall spares a thought for his bank balance. 

“Are not,” Niall retorts and wants to swallow it down before it even leaves his mouth properly because he sounds like such a petulant child. Zayn laughs loudly, smacking his hand over his shoulder and stopping in front of a shelf of pesto. 

“Harry likes the green one right?” he checks and Niall sighs. 

“You know he does.” 

“And so do you,” Zayn laughs, picking up a jar and putting it in with the pasta. “Knowing your boyfriend’s tastes like they’re your own, that is such boyfriend behaviour.” 

Niall narrows his eyes. “I know what you eat too, moving in with someone does that to a friendship.” 

“I haven’t moved in,” Zayn defends himself sharply, knocking Niall to the side so he can take over steering the trolley. Niall snorts and takes a few strides to catch up with him. 

“Why are you so interested anyway?” Niall asks as they turn the corner because now that Niall and Harry’s _thing_ has stretched out into a grand total week and a half, Zayn’s been mentioning it more and more often. Zayn picks up some mayonnaise and looks at the label so he doesn’t have to look up at Niall. 

“So I was thinking that we should have some of that tuna for dinner tomorrow and -” Zayn starts to say, head resolutely not turning to look anywhere near Niall. 

“Are you changing the subject?” Niall grins at the side of his head and snatches the bottle of mayo out of his hands to throw it into the trolley. “Why are you changing the subject?” 

“I tried out this really good potato thing in France one time,” Zayn continues loudly. “I could try and do that, we need to get cream though.”

Niall can’t hold in his giggle and Zayn looks at him briefly from the corner of his eye. He’s been building a theory in the back of his mind the past few days so he just decides to ask him. “Are you jealous? Is that it? You’re jealous of how close me and Harry are?” 

Zayn snorts loudly, shaking his head but he still can’t turn round to look at Niall in the eye. 

“Are you jealous of me?” Niall asks as it dawns on him. He can see the tips of Zayn’s ears pink up and the expression on his face makes Niall want to squeeze him tight he looks so adorable. “Does _someone_ have a crush on Harry?” 

“The only one with a crush here is you. I’ll go get the cream,” Zayn tells him at the end of the aisle, casting him a final look before walking the opposite direction back to the milk‘s kept. Niall watches him go and can’t quite put a finger on the feeling in his chest. It isn’t disappointment or jealousy, in fact, he feels half turned on at the mere thought of it. 

Zayn stubbornly keeps bickering with him the whole way home. 

“Will you just drop it?” Niall asks as he packs away the last of the biscuits into the cupboard. Zayn grins at him, bunching the plastic bags together and pushing them into the wine shelf they never use for actual wine because it never gets a chance to sit around long enough. 

“But you look cute when you get all annoyed,” Zayn laughs and bops his finger against Niall’s nose. Niall bats him away, pushing at his shoulder until he’s bent over the kitchen table and laughing into the wood. 

“Ok ok,” he surrenders, tapping his hand twice against the wood and twisting out from under Niall. He gets one of his arms up and turns them until it’s Niall lying against the kitchen table instead. 

Niall has to take a breath because he feels a bit dizzy as he blinks up at Zayn. His hair has drooped down and it tickles at Niall‘s forehead they‘re pressed so close, he‘s aware of Zayn‘s hips pressed against him, pinning him down with his full weight, hands braced on either side of Niall‘s shoulders. There’s nothing he would rather do than kiss him. 

There‘s an intensity in Zayn‘s eyes when they meet, before they flick down to Niall‘s lips and back up again. Niall has to shut his eyes and take a deep breath, Harry‘s face coming to the back of his eyelids as he remembers who he‘s allowed to kiss and who he‘s not. 

“Niall,“ Zayn whispers and Niall blinks open his eyes to see Zayn’s stare. He inches closer like he’s going to kiss him and Niall nearly goes to meet him but he can’t. Him and Harry have a thing now, and even if Niall doesn’t know what to call it, it exists and he doesn’t want to ruin it. 

Niall nudges him out of the way to sit up properly, avoiding Zayn’s gaze. Zayn takes a few sharp breaths, close enough for Niall to hear and then straightens up completely when they both hear the front door opening somewhere behind them. Niall watches as Zayn runs a hand shakily through his hair and straightens his shirt before his attention is captured by a mud spattered Harry in the doorway to the kitchen. 

“Well you look nice and clean,” Zayn grins sarcastically at him, taking another step away from Niall. Harry smirks, stripping his shirt off right there in the middle of the kitchen and grimacing at the muck spread across his back and hips. He looks cute, hair tucked up into a hair band so it flops around his ears and sticks up at the top. He’s still a little bit sweaty and Niall figures he must have ran home.

“What happened to you?” Niall asks, stepping away from the table to run a palm lightly down his chest. Niall’s still a bit fidgety from nearly being caught and he can hear his blood rushing through his ears but Harry’s hand settles on Niall’s hip, thumbing over the gap between his waistband and his shirt and his beat picks up speed for a different reason entirely. 

“Just football practise,” Harry murmurs, leaning forward to run his nose up over Niall’s temple before stepping away. Niall catches Zayn’s grin at the corner of his eye and tries to ignore it but Niall’s stomach is turning over at the sweetness of the gesture so he just smiles back at him. “What have you been up to? What’s for dinner?” 

“Well,” Niall starts and smiles over at Zayn, who isn‘t doing a great job at keeping his eyes off Harry‘s torso. “Zayn’s going to make this wonderful potato dish.”

He flushes a bit, moving back to the fridge and clearing his throat. 

“I am,” Zayn nods. “So tell me about football?” 

Niall laughs at his change of subject but Harry hardly notices as he launches into a story of how he got tackled and why he looks like he’s been rolling around in mud. 

“But I think we’re too short to start on the league on Saturday.” Harry complains and wraps his hands around the mug of tea Niall sets in front of him. “A few of the boys dropped out and now we’re one short.” 

“Really?” Zayn asks turning away from where he’s making a start on dinner. He frowns down at the block of cheese he’s grating. “I could join then?” 

“You’re gonna join the team?” Harry grins and stands up to strip out of the rest of his kit to throw into the washing machine. He gives a bark of disbelieving laughter and drops his shorts. “Really?” 

“I’ve nothing better to do, do I?” Zayn shrugs. Harry looks amused, fingers dipping into the waistband of his boxers but he catches himself at the last moment as if remembering stripping off in front of them is inappropriate when they’re both in the room now. Niall’s disappointment is mirrored in Zayn’s expression across the room and Niall can’t help but waggle his eyebrows at him, watching with glee as he flushes at being caught. 

“You‘re going to go and play football with _me?_ And Louis who you‘ve never really met? And a bunch of other people you‘ll probably hate?” Harry checks, he‘s down his boxers and has a hand on his hip along with a disbelieving expression on his face. “In the middle of November?”

Zayn nods, turning back to peeling his potatoes with a small smile. Niall snorts and leans against the counter watching the blush work it’s way up Zayn’s cheeks and the nearly matching one on Harry’s face. Harry swings around and raises an eyebrow at Niall. 

“Is this a ploy to get us to like each other now?” he asks quietly and Zayn snorts by the sink.

“Don’t think I need a ploy do I?” Niall asks him, smile softening. “I think you like each other just fine without my help.” 

Harry pulls a face, glancing over at Zayn’s back before stumbling across the room so he can plant a sloppy kiss on Niall’s lips. Niall grins at him when he pulls away, still not used to the way Harry can be overly affectionate with him now even though they still haven’t discussed what on earth they’re doing with each other. Harry deepens the kiss and Niall can’t help but grab a handful of his side to pull him closer. 

“I hate the gym,” Zayn announces loudly and they pull away from each other. Zayn‘s looking a bit red in the face and his eyes keep dipping down to take in the sigh of Harry‘s hand on Niall‘s hip and the way he‘s already pushed his shirt a few inches up his chest. “I hate the gym and football is a good way to keep fit.” 

“Ok,“ Harry laughs because even Niall doesn’t believe that line. He reaches for one of the towels that’s slung across the radiator and beams across the kitchen to him. “This could be fun then.“ 

Niall laughs again before he puts a hand to Harry’s shoulder and pushes him in the direction of the shower. 

“Go get clean,” Niall smiles fondly and Harry turns to back out of the kitchen waggling his eyebrows at him.

“Come join me?” he asks with a grin, bumping into the doorframe on his way out. Niall laughs, casting a glance over his shoulder at where Zayn is still peeling his potatoes, fingers clenched around the peeler and eyes fixed determinedly down at the chopping board. 

“Don’t you dare,” he warns without looking up. Harry giggles gleefully from the doorway, reaching out and tugging on Niall’s wrist. 

“You won’t know we’re gone,” Harry promises. “We’ll be done for dinner.” 

Niall lets Harry tug on his hand until his arm is stretched out in front of him. He roots his feet and glances over at Zayn again but the corner of his mouth is turned up in a smile so he lets Harry drag him off towards the bathroom, pushing thoughts of Zayn joining them out of his mind. 

*

It’s only when Niall catches them one night does he actually allow the thought to take root in his brain. He hesitates in the doorway to the kitchen and from the angle he can see them both but they can’t see him. He thinks idly that Zayn probably _does_ know that he’s there but he has his back to the door and only eyes for Harry in this moment. They look good together, with broad shoulders and hips that look like they would fit together perfectly. Harry is leaning against the counter now, hands still soapy from washing the dishes and Zayn has him effectively pinned to the cupboards even though they aren’t touching anywhere. There’s an inch gap between them and Niall just wants to shove Zayn roughly in the back so he’ll stumble forward and he can see if they slot together as well as he imagines. 

Niall’s breath gets caught somewhere between his lungs and mouth as he watches them edge closer and with a swooping thought Niall hopes they’ll kiss. 

They don’t though, or Niall doesn’t wait around to find out because along with the hope he can’t help the fizzling thoughts of disappointment at the back of his head. He slides back into the living and collapses onto the sofa with a head full of images of them together. It’s not really the first time he’s entertained the thought of them together but it’s the first time he’s ever got a glimpse of them together and actually thought it was possible. 

Harry slides into the room a moment later, coming straight over to him with slightly wide eyes and hand prints on his thighs where Niall can see where he’s dried his hands. He doesn’t say a word, just falls on top of him and fits himself in between Niall’s chest and the back of the sofa. 

“Y’alright?” Niall asks, keeping his eyes trained on Pointless on the TV but not failing to notice Harry’s tired eyes from the corner of his vision. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathes quietly, nuzzling into the dip between Niall’s shoulder and neck and breathing shallowly into the skin there. Niall rubs his hand soothing down his arm, tucking him in close and keeping him there until Zayn appears in the doorway. 

He stares at them for a moment and Niall isn’t exactly sure what’s going on between them all. All he can feel is a weird tension enveloping around them. He cocks his head to the side and waits for Zayn to come over and crawl onto the sofa as well. Zayn hesitates for a moment, a hand still on the wooden frame until he takes a step forward. It’s a tight squeeze and there’s two other perfectly good chairs in the room but Zayn makes himself comfy at the other end of the sofa, pulling Harry’s legs into his lap and resting his hand like a comforting weight across his ankle. 

Harry freezes for a moment and Niall can feel the tremor move up his back before he finally relaxes and goes boneless between them both. When Zayn catches his eye over Harry’s head of floppy hair his smile is tentative but relaxes once Niall finds himself smiling warmly back at him. 

*

“Fuck me,” Harry mumbles, lips moving against the stubble on Niall’s jaw. They’re tangled in the sheets and it’s some time just after noon, watery winter sunlight spilling into the room through the curtains that Niall hadn’t really closed last night. 

“What?” Niall’s stomach clenches and when he blinks over at Harry he can see the uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. 

Harry clears his throat, a faint blush working it‘s way up his cheeks but he doesn‘t dodge his gaze as he murmurs, “I want you to fuck me.”

Niall knows that this is somehow about yesterday. In the fortnight they’ve been messing about they still haven’t worked their way up to that. Harry looks over at him with wide eyes, flickering his gaze up over his face. Niall starts to realise that he’s been silent for too long when Harry squeezes his wrist and starts to pull away. 

“It’s fine,” he murmurs rolling onto his back and his voice going flat, “we don’t have to.” 

Niall knows that tone, that Harry’s upset and embarrassed he even brought it up but Niall can already feel blood rushing south so he thinks with his dick for once and wraps his hand around Harry’s wrist before he can properly fight his way out of the blankets. 

Harry’s eyes widen when he looks back over at him, rolling into his chest where he was before and looking shyly up at him. 

“If you want,” Niall mutters against his lips, pressing against them for a moment before pulling back. Harry follows him eagerly, curling them into a smile and pecking him quickly one after the other until Niall pulls back again. “It - Will it -”

Harry frowns at him and Niall shakes his head. He wants to know if it’ll change anything between them but Harry’s looking at him in a way that makes Niall’s mind go blank so he figures they can deal with it later. 

He rolls over to press Harry back into the mattress and rocks against him. Harry lets out a quiet gasp into Niall’s ear before kissing him long and slow. They kiss for a while, Niall licking into his mouth and sucking on his bottom lip until he’s hard and Harry’s fingers are impatiently curling into the back of his boxers. 

“Come on,” he whines, grinding up into his hips and Niall huffs a breath against his chin, nipping it with his teeth and smoothing his tongue over it when Harry yelps. 

“Alright Mr. Impatient,” Niall chides biting at a spot just under his jaw. Harry groans, working his hips up again. 

“Excited,” he corrects but he’s breathless and grinning when he pulls Niall back up to kiss him properly. “ Get the lube, now.” 

Niall laughs and rolls off him to stick his hand into the drawer at the side of the bed. Harry’s kicking away sheets behind him and when he rolls back to him he’s already pulled off his boxers and has a loose hand curled around his dick. 

“Jesus,” Niall mutters, dropping the bottle and rolling back over him again. Harry groans into his mouth and widens his thighs to let Niall settle between them. He bites and sucks his way down Harry’s chest and belly until he can suck at the jut of his hip bone and push one of Harry’s legs up and out of the way. 

He has no idea when the last time Harry’s done this so he takes his time, making Harry whine and squirm until he has three fingers curled into him and a thumb rubbing around the edge. 

“N-now,” Harry pants and Niall can’t take his eyes off the way he has a hand clenched in the pillow behind his head and how the muscles in his stomach keep twitching. “Niall, _now_.”

Harry’s face goes slack when he edges in, pushing until Niall’s hips are flush with him and Harry’s nearly folded in half. He stills for a moment and watches Harry’s face, his eyes shut and mouth dropping open into a silent moan. 

“You good?” Niall checks, bending down to kiss him. Harry nods frantically, sucking in a breath between their lips to calm himself and blinking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Yeah, go go,” he babbles and Niall grins at him, catching him in another kiss before pulling out and rocking back into him quickly. Harry groans below him when Niall wraps a hand around him to get him hard again, rolling his hips and meeting Niall’s thrusts eagerly. He reaches up suddenly, grasping at Niall around the back of his neck and pulling him down to kiss him. It’s sloppy and Niall can’t really multitask all that well but somehow finds a rhythm that has him licking into Harry’s mouth in time with his hips for a few moments. Harry whimpers when he pulls away but Niall doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against his cheek instead.

He can hear the way Harry’s breath hitches in his throat and how he keeps muttering Niall’s name under his breath. Niall has to close his eyes, rolling his face into Harry’s neck as Harry scrambles to find Niall’s hand beside his hip and curling their fingers together. 

The gesture makes Niall turn his head, catching Harry’s gaze and the intensity of it causes Niall’s heart to trip over itself. 

“Niall,” Harry gasps quietly and Niall looks at him again, nearly faltering at how intimate it all feels. Niall slows down on instinct, drawing out of him slowly and rocking back into him to make him gasp. He kisses him. Short and sharp because Harry can hardly get his lips to move against him, just able to breath hotly against Niall’s chin as they stare at each other, nose to nose. 

“Niall,” he moans again, hitching his hips up to meet him and suddenly Niall can feel him clench around him. It only takes a swipe of Niall’s hand over the top of his dick, smearing it against Harry’s belly before he’s coming between them. He gasps, winding a hand in Niall’s hair and mouthing at his jaw as Niall thrusts twice more and comes too. 

It’s strangely silent for a few moments, both of them just catching their breath and then Harry’s shifting underneath them until Niall carefully pulls out. 

“Thanks,” he whispers, lips brushing against the side of Niall’s face as he rolls them both over onto their sides. He only has to turn his head to kiss him gently. Harry sighs into it, fingers curling around Niall’s again and slotting his knee between his thighs. They’re sticky still but Niall’s too tired to move much more than his lips against Harry’s. Harry’s quiet for a moment, eyes wide as they rake over Niall’s face. He’s still panting against him so Niall settles his palm on Harry’s rosy cheeks to try and calm him down.

“Are you alright?” Niall whispers and Harry’s nodding before he can finish speaking. He presses against him, a hand clutching at Niall’s neck to pull him into another long kiss.

They break apart when there’s a loud thump against the door. 

“It’s two in the fucking afternoon!” Zayn yells at them from the hallway which makes Harry break away to suddenly giggle into Niall’s neck.

“Oops.” he smiles, snuggling closer and curling a hand around Niall’s hip. Niall smiles at him and tries to ignore the twitch in his dick at the thought of Zayn overhearing.

 

*

“So,” Zayn’s voice comes from the doorway. Niall turns to look at him and watches as he slips into the room, already dressed in worn pyjama bottoms and a loose tank top. He steps to the side so Zayn can reach for his toothbrush and fall into the space beside him in front of the mirror. “I have a confession.” 

“Yes?” Niall raises his eyebrows, mouth full of foam. 

“You might be right,” Zayn mutters, avoiding his eyes and spreading toothpaste onto the bristles of his brush. 

“Oh yeah?” Niall spits into the sink and looks up at him with a frown. “Right about what?” 

Zayn frowns back at him, shoving his toothbrush into his mouth for a moment. “About Harry.” 

Niall can barely make him out past the toothbrush but Zayn rolls his eyes and repeats himself minus the toothbrush.

“Oh,” Niall grins as he remembers Zayn blushing over a bottle of mayo. “Harry eh?”

Zayn looks like he’s embarrassed again and says nothing when he shoves his toothbrush back into his mouth and starts to brush. 

“Bonding over marinating techniques and the perfect way to chop a carrot,” Niall sighs blissfully and watches in the mirror as Zayn’s eyes narrow. “Oh please Harry,” Niall puts on a squeaky voice that’s supposed to be Zayn. “Please take me to football with you!” 

“Oh shut up,” Zayn bites out, spitting roughly into the sink. He reaches up and tangles a hand in Niall’s hair before pushing him playfully away. Niall giggles spinning around and trying to get a hand into Zayn’s hair in return. He dodges away from it, turning his back and bending over to get it further away until Niall moulds to his back and licks a frothy stripe up his neck. 

Zayn squawks, twisting away until he’s free. Niall nearly swallows the little toothpaste left in his mouth at the expression on his face. 

“Sor - sorry,” Niall laughs, backing into the corner between the cabinet and the bath. Zayn’s eye are crinkled at the side and he’s biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. Niall giggles, putting a hand to his chest to stop him coming any closer. 

Zayn stops in front of him, a mouthful of toothpaste on his tongue. He looks like he’s going to dribble it over Niall’s chest but he stops at the last moment, inhaling sharply and settling a hand on Niall’s hip instead. 

Niall feels his breath shortening and it’s like their back in the kitchen again, bent over the table when Niall wouldn’t really mind if Zayn kissed him right now. Except he would because he has to think about Harry now. Niall frowns and Zayn watches his face contort but doesn’t pull away. 

“Well, this is - “ Harry mumbles from the doorway with wide eyes. “Cosy.” 

Zayn wrenches away from him, swallowing the toothpaste and moving quickly to rinse his mouth out. 

“Just messing about,” Niall smiles at him, dropping his toothbrush in beside Harry’s in the glass on the windowsill. Harry nods mutely, edging into the room and staring at Zayn as he passes. 

“Night,” Zayn murmurs to them both, hand skimming across Harry’s side as he leaves. Niall can see the shiver run up Harry’s side and watches as his face goes confused afterwards. 

“See you in bed,” Niall smiles at him. Harry nods and walks past him to the sink. He’s still frowning so Niall presses a minty kiss to his forehead and tries to pretend that his heart isn’t beating three times faster than it should be. 

He doesn’t even know why it is. It’s all turning into such a mind fuck. He never expected to be caught between the two of them, watching as they both develop feelings for each other while he still has feelings for the pair of them too. 

Zayn’s already in his room when he passes his door so Niall goes to get a glass water before slipping into his own room. 

Harry’s somehow already in bed by the time he gets back, curled up against the headboard and picking at the edge of the duvet. 

"You've slept with him haven't you?" he asks quietly once Niall’s set down the water and starts getting ready for bed. Niall freezes, one foot out of his jeans and he has to put a hand out onto the mattress to steady himself. "Zayn," he clarifies and ducks his head back down to look at the duvet again. 

Niall kicks off his trousers and sits on the corner of the bed, breathing out steadily. There's no way he can lie to Harry and he feels the guilt bubble up in his stomach. 

"Yeah," he mumbles, mouth not working very well at the moment. He hears Harry's sigh and his stomach clenches. When he peers over his shoulder, he immediately regrets it because Harry's face has fallen and he's hardly even trying to hide how disappointed he is by that. "Sorry." Niall adds in, even though technically has nothing to be sorry for really because they weren’t together when it happened and Niall‘s not even sure if they‘re together now. 

Harry just nods, looking away and taking a deep breath. 

"That's ok," he mutters, blinking rapidly and Niall knows he's upset. He reaches back across the bed and tries to grab Harry's hand but he lifts it delicately away and tucks it below the duvet. Niall stays still, leant over Harry's legs with his palm outstretched in case Harry changes his mind. 

"I think," Harry clears his throat and Niall inches his hand closer to cup around the outline of Harry's knee. "Maybe, I want to sleep alone tonight." 

Niall stares at him but Harry doesn't budge, in fact he shuffles down the mattress until his head is in the pillows. Niall wants to laugh because this is _his_ bedroom after all but he doesn't, instead he stands up and stares at him for a moment, waiting for him to change his mind and finally moving towards the door when he realises he won’t. 

"I'll see you in the morning," he sighs. He hesitates, looking back over at Harry but he's rolled over so his back is to him, leaving Niall to turn off the lights and leave. The hallway is dark and quiet and he pauses outside Zayn's door, hand up poised to open it. It would probably make things ten times worse if he slept next to Zayn but the sofa isn't really looking all that attractive to him now. 

He's got one foot inside the living room when he feels Zayn's hands on his shoulders, turning him round and steering him back towards the bedroom. 

"Come on," Zayn mutters, pushing him through the door and towards the bed. Niall sighs to himself because he knows he shouldn't really be doing this but he can't help sink into the mattress and roll into the space that Zayn has already made warm. 

"I've fucked up," he murmurs into the pillow but Zayn just shushes him, crawling in after and curling into a ball beside him. "No, I really have." 

"Yeah." Zayn agrees and doesn't do anything else except blink at him. Niall clenches his eyes shut and moans into the pillow because everything has gone to shit in the last five minutes. 

"Fuck," he bites out and rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He can visualise Harry one room over, lying and doing the same and all he wants is to curl up behind him and make him feel better. "Shit! Why is this so confusing?"

Zayn makes a soothing noise, shuffling over until he's flush with Niall's side and can get a hand up to scratch at his head just above his ear. "It'll all work out, promise." 

Niall bites his lip in effort not to laugh because Zayn has no idea what he’s doing either by the sounds of it. Zayn just smiles at him in return, digging his chin into his shoulder and looking up at him with sleepy eyes. 

“Do you want me to make you feel better?“ he whispers so quietly that Niall could nearly have pretended he had imagined it if he wanted to. His stomach twists and his mind flashes to the first time they got together but then he’s reminded of Harry across the hall and he feels slightly sick that he even fleetingly considered Zayn‘s offer. 

“Go to sleep,“ Zayn mutters with a small fond smile, reading his face so Niall doesn’t have to refuse verbally. “It’ll all be forgotten about in the morning.“ 

Niall wants to believe him and they hold each others gaze for a long time until Niall’s breathing evens out and he can’t stop his eyes closing with sleep. 

*

Niall's head is throbbing when he wakes up. Zayn’s spooned up behind him, a leg wrapped around his ankles and his hand is curled in the front of Niall's t-shirt, keeping him rooted in his arms. He can feel Harry's eyes on them before he's properly blinked the sleep out of his own and his stomach lurches when he looks up to catch Harry's disappointed expression. 

"Harry," he manages before he's out the door and clattering into the kitchen. "Fuck." 

Zayn hums into his ear, slowly moving out of the way until Niall kicks at the covers to get him to move faster. By the time Niall finally gets untangled and makes it into the kitchen Harry has three mugs in front of him and a stony face as he glares at the kettle that's still boiling. 

"Tea?" Harry asks tersely and Niall nods, sliding up to stand beside him at the bench. Harry makes no attempt to talk to him, keeping his shoulders tense as he taps out a rhythm with the bottom of a teaspoon. They both reach for the sugar at the same time and Harry freezes, palm shaking above Niall's before he grabs it, squeezing it for a moment and letting go to grab the sugar pot. 

"Harry?" Niall asks quietly because he's not quite sure what this all means. He’s nearly sure that Harry’s pissed off but then he goes and does lovely little affectionate gestures like that and it’s just confusing. 

“Just -” he pauses, peeking up from behind his messy bed hair and then looking down again in time to pop three spoonfuls of sugars into Zayn’s mug, the blue one with the chip on the side. He turns for the milk and Niall can see the way his shoulders rise when he takes a deep breath. He still has a face like thunder when he turns around but when he catches Niall's reproachful gaze he softens a bit. 

"Yes?" Niall prompts because now he's pouring water into the mugs and hasn't said anything since. 

"I just need some time," he mutters fishing out the teabags and throwing them into the sink. Niall hates when he does that but allows Harry a moment to piss him off given the situation.

“If you’ll let me explain. Harry I -” Niall starts, reaching out to curl his fingers into the worn sleeve of the hoodie he’s wearing. It might be Zayn’s but the arms are too long and the cuffs gape around his wrists. Harry shrugs him off quietly, twisting his fingers into the material and picking up his tea. 

“I don’t need an explanation,” he states very quietly, eyes downcast and hands wrapped around his mug where Niall can see the tremor run through his wrists. “Just give me some time.” 

He escapes out of the kitchen before Niall has a chance to do anything else leaving him confused and with two mugs of rapidly cooling tea. 

*

Harry’s silent treatment lasts a whole two days where he mopes around the flat, storming out through the living room to go work and trudging in later with a blank expression. It’s like living with a sulking teenager and there’s times that Niall wants to grab him and just give him a _shake_. But most of the time he just watches him come and go with a feeling of unease in his stomach. Sometimes, Niall catches him hesitate in the living room door and knows he wants to join them on the sofa but that he’s too stubborn to give into it. There’s a silly thought floating about in the back of his mind that Harry’s _jealous_ and sometimes when he catches Harry staring at the back of Zayn’s neck, or sneaking a glance at him across the breakfast table that he wonders which one of them he’s actually jealous of. 

On Saturday, Zayn wakes Niall up with a press of lips to his forehead and tells him quietly that they have to leave soon. He can hear Harry moving about the flat and when Niall orientates himself enough to pull on a jumper and follow them out the door into the blustery morning, he’s rewarded with a small smile from Harry.

The field they use for football used to belong to the old school and isn’t really anything special. The nets have holes as big as your head and the lines have faded to white dust amongst the hastily shorn grass. Niall pulls on Zayn’s coat, ignoring the look Harry gives him and sits down on the slight incline at the side of the pitch along with the few other people who have came to watch.

The collar of the coat smells faintly of Zayn’s aftershave and Niall pulls it up around his cheek so when he turns his head he can catch it. 

“Good luck,” he grins at them as they strip off to their shorts and lace up their boots. 

“Thanks,” Zayn laughs, reaching out to clap Harry’s shoulder when they turn to walk out onto the pitch. Niall smiles at the warmth he feels when Harry doesn’t immediately shrug him off. 

They’re playing another local team and none of the players seem to be overly competitive so Niall relaxes as much as he can against the damp grass and watches as Zayn and Harry start to warm up near the centre of the pitch. He can see them talking and Niall shivers because he can nearly guess it’s about him. Harry’s stayed silent whenever Niall’s been about the house but he hadn’t really thought if he had still been speaking to Zayn. He’s immediately curious at what they’re talking about but it slips out of his mind when he catches Louis in the corner of his eye. 

He doesn’t turn around immediately, but he feels his eyes on him and when he inches his head to the left he can see him properly, knee bent back into a stretch but his eyes narrowed in and solely looking at him. 

Niall can’t help the shiver down the back of his spine and tries to ignore the feeling of discomfort under his gaze. He assumes that Harry had told him all about what’s been going on but he still isn’t quite sure what Louis’ problem is. 

The ref blows the whistle and Niall turns away to watch Harry and Zayn finish their conversation, heads bent together before they turn separate directions and walk to their spot on the pitch. 

They lose. 

Niall’s not surprised - the whole team seems terrible at football, passing to each other well but lacking in defence. There’s a moment where Harry tackles a guy near the opposite goal and the ref blows his whistle. The group of spectators beside Niall are calling for him to be sent off and Niall waits on bated breath as Harry’s face goes stony and he starts a long conversation with the referee. Louis has to pull him away at the last moment but Harry shrugs him off, turning around and glaring at the ground. 

His mood doesn’t improve when the final whistle is blown and the other team start a very enthusiastic chant after their two - nil win. Harry storms over to Niall with Zayn hot on his heels. 

“Bad luck,” Niall smiles reassuringly up at them. Zayn shrugs, smile tugging at the edges of his lips as Harry strips off his dirty shirt and stuffs it into his bag. 

“Dickhead fouled me,” Harry gripes and pulls on a clean t-shirt. It’s just starting to rain and he huffs at the sky before pulling on Zayn’s coat once Niall’s shrugged out of it. Zayn laughs, pulling his own dirty t-shirt over his head and searching for something warm to wear instead. 

“We still wouldn’t have won,” Zayn offers, mouth muffled in the cotton of the hoodie he’s wrestling himself into. Harry glares at him, shoving his feet into a pair of converse and turning just as Louis appears at his elbow. 

“Good game lads,” he offers half heartedly, eyes brushing over Niall before turning back to Harry. “We’re thinking of grabbing a few pints.” 

Niall watches him turn his shoulder slightly to include Zayn but it’s clear that he isn’t really invited. Zayn snorts quietly, gathering up the rest of Harry’s clothing and shoving it into the kit bag at their feet. Niall can see Zayn hesitate and there’s an awkward moment where Niall isn’t sure what exactly to do.

“You can go with them,” Niall whispers when Harry’s distracted at something Louis’ saying. 

Zayn smiles at him and it makes him feel warm. “No, I’d rather go with you.” Niall grins to himself and Zayn turns towards Harry, bringing him back to their group. “I’ll see you later,” Zayn tells him, leaning into their little huddle and swiping his lips along Harry’s cheek. Harry looks shocked for a moment before nodding quietly and side stepping so Niall can do the same. He lets his lips linger at the corner of Harry’s mouth for a moment before stepping back.

“Have a good time,” Niall offers a smile to Louis who just half scowls at him and drags Harry back towards a few of the other lads. 

“So you’re best buds with Louis too?” Niall asks once Zayn’s finished pulling on enough layers that he doesn’t freeze to death and fallen into step beside him. Zayn grins at him but Niall can see a tightness behind his eyes that he can’t quite read. 

“He’s a treat isn’t he?” Zayn asks and waits a beat before asking, “what’s his deal anyway?” 

Niall peers over at him, he’s looking down at the ground and Niall can’t tell if he’s avoiding eye contact or just focused on his own footsteps. Zayn looks up when he takes too long to answer and Niall shrugs, offering him a small smile. 

“He’s never really liked me,” Niall murmurs. “Harry and him got really close when I was away a lot a few years ago and he didn’t seem to like it when I got back.“ Niall shrugs again because he hasn’t really thought about it too much. Zayn nods. 

“Do you think he knows what you do?“ Zayn asks quietly when they stop at a set of lights and wait for the green man. Niall frowns properly then because it’s an odd question. 

“Why?“ Niall shrugs. “I don’t think he would care, he’s just always been an arse?” 

Zayn snorts and ducks his head again when the crossing begins to beep. They stay quiet for most of the rest of the walk home but Niall doesn’t mind, he’s caught up on worrying about how Harry’s feeling and what Zayn’s been asking. 

“Let him go and get really drunk,” Zayn murmurs as they finally near their front door. Niall must be frowning because Zayn lifts a hand up to thumb at the worry lines on his forehead. “He’ll vent and come back good as new.” It sounds like a promise and Niall wants to believe him as he wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into the flat. 

It turns into a particularly stormy night and Harry isn’t back from the pub by the time Zayn drags Niall to bed. It’s windy and Niall hasn’t really fell into a deep sleep when he hears the front door open over the roar of the wind. He waits a moment, holding his breath so he can listen better to Harry move about the flat until he appears in the doorway with a sheepish expression on his face and a pillow tucked under his arm.

“Hey Harry,” Zayn notices him first, before the door is even fully open and Niall rolls over to groggily stare at him as he edges into the room. 

“What’s wrong?” he can’t help but ask and Harry shakes his head, padding across the room. Niall has the corner of the duvet pulled up before he’s even within an arms length and Harry crawls in with a grateful smile. He doesn’t settle beside Niall though, instead drops his pillow and climbs over Niall’s waist until he can curl between them. 

Zayn looks at Niall questioningly over his head but Niall just shrugs, the movement jostling Harry and he clears his throat to say very quietly into the near silent room, “My bed was just very big.” 

Zayn raises his eyebrows a bit before settling back into the pillows and sliding his arm carefully over Harry’s waist in case he throws him off. Niall watches as Harry sinks into the pillows and pushes back against Zayn’s chest with a small smile before rolling closer until he can feel the back of Zayn’s knuckles brush against his chest and Harry’s ankles tangle in his own. 

Harry’s eyes are huge when they’re pressed this close, almost nose to nose and Niall has to blink him back into focus every few minutes. He smiles quietly and knows that this is Harry’s way of apologizing - he’s had Harry crawling into bed to cuddle with him for long enough to understand that. 

“Night Harry,” he murmurs quietly and watches as Harry’s eyelashes flutter closed and feels Zayn’s hand brush across his skin as he runs his palm soothingly up over Harry’s chest. His own chest feels like it’s full of cotton wool as he takes in the pair of them curled up beside him and he has to hide his smile into where Harry’s hair is splayed across his pillow before he falls asleep to the sound of two sets of deep breathing. 

It feels like déjà vu when Niall wakes up in the morning to Harry climbing over his waist and he troops out after him to watch as he pours milk into three cups of tea with an unsmiling expression on his face.

“What’s wrong now Harry?” Niall asks again because he had been offered very little explanation from either Harry or a still half asleep Zayn back in bed. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Harry mutters, stirring in sugar and dropping the tea bags into the sink. Niall raises his eyebrows because if he’s not really in Harry’s bad books anymore he has no problem telling Harry that he should put them straight in the bin. Harry smirks, finally a dash of light in his eyes as he spoons them out of the sink and throws them into the bin with a sheepish grin. 

“About what?” Niall asks him once he’s back and stirring at the teas again. He shrugs, looking shy.

“Wait until we’re with Zayn,” he tells him and grabs two of the mugs before stalking out of the room.

He curls his hand around the last mug and follows Harry back towards Zayn's room, nervous anticipation building up in his stomach. 

Zayn's blinking blearily up at them when they come back. Harry doesn't hesitate when he climbs onto his bed, making himself at home beside Zayn's shoulder and handing him one of the mugs. Zayn smiles at him and Niall knows by his baffled expression he has no clue what's going on either. 

"So," Harry starts once Niall's settled at the foot of the bed. Harry glances at both of them before looking back at Niall and getting straight to the point. "It's obvious that there's something going on here." He wags a finger between Niall and himself and Niall feels himself blush. Zayn smirks around the lip of the mug. "And between you two." He points at Zayn now and Niall's embarrassed flush grows down his neck. 

"Well - " Zayn starts as if to refute the claim but Harry just rolls eyes and turns back to Niall. 

"There's something between you," Harry repeats quietly and sets his mug down on the bedside table. Niall pretends not to see how his hands are shaking but it makes him nervous that Harry‘s so worried. "And this is quite a situation we've got ourselves into." 

Niall nods for lack of better things to say and tightens his grip on his mug. Zayn looks confused as to where this is going. 

"So I think we should give it a go." Harry tells his knees and Niall doesn't really know who he's talking to or what he’s even on about.

"What?" Zayn vocalises his confusion and Harry's blushing now. 

"I think we should give it a go," Harry says even slower than Niall thought possible. He blinks at his tea and then up at them both, peeking shyly at Niall before turning to Zayn. "If you want to of course, but you like Niall, I like Niall," he takes another deep breath. "I'm sure we could work something out." 

Niall chokes on a mouthful of tea as he finally catches on to what Harry's on about. 

"Are you serious?" Niall asks because this all sounds ridiculous and made up. Things like this never happen in real life. Harry’s nodding at him though and Niall has to s, staring back at him with wide eyes. 

"Well," Zayn starts. "That's something I wasn't expecting this morning." 

Harry laughs nervously, draining his mug dry and placing it back on the nightstand. 

"You can think about it. It's probably a silly idea," Harry babbles, scrambling off the bed and looking between the two of them one last time before escaping out the door and back into his. 

Zayn's staring at him with uncharacteristically wide eyes. "Did that really happen?" 

Niall laughs, leaning forward to put his mug down on the table too. Zayn grabs his wrist before he has the chance to sit back properly, pulling him down beside him so he can look at him closely. There’s a beat of silence and Niall has no idea what to think but Zayn is looking at him with eyes full of sudden determination. 

They're kissing before Niall really knows what to make of it, Zayn pushing him back into the pillows and licking into his mouth. Niall groans in to it, he had nearly forgotten how good Zayn is at this. Fingers work their way up his side, slotting in just below his ribs and they stay there when they finally break apart. Niall pants into Zayn’s chin, mind spinning before Zayn's rolling off him just as quick as he had pinned him. 

"Harry!" he shouts out the door that Harry had left ajar a few moments ago. There's silence and for a heart stopping second Niall thinks he's not going to come. The door opens quietly and Harry appears looking apprehensive. He looks like he’s all locked up, hands in fists by his sides. 

"I think we should try it," Zayn says carefully. Harry nods and walks into the room properly. He slides onto the bed and nibbles on the edge of his thumb. 

"Me and Niall, you and Niall," Harry confirms, teeth hardly moving from his nail. Zayn looks a bit put out for a moment and Niall knows he shouldn't be complaining, he's getting the best of both worlds but he lifts a hand to pull Harry in anyway.

"What about you two?" he asks quietly, tugging Harry close so he can press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Harry squirms under his arm, shuffling in so he’s sandwiched between both of them. 

"You and me too," Zayn decides leaning over Niall's chest and pulling Harry in to kiss him. Harry squeaks against his lips before he sinks into it, pressing a frantic kiss against his lips and sliding down the mattress until he's flush with Niall's body.

"Are we really doing this?" he asks quietly against his lips but the only other sounds in the room are the faint tick of the clock and Niall's slightly unsteady breathing. 

"Yeah," Zayn answers for him, swooping down suddenly to catch the side of Harry's mouth in another kiss. Niall's mouth opens because even though it's totally cliché to say, he really _really_ wants to watch this forever. He must make a noise at the back of his throat because both Zayn and Harry break apart laughing to look around at him and he can feel heat in his cheeks but can’t help the grin on his face. He shuffles closer, moulding himself to Harry’s side and curling a hand around Zayn's neck to pull him down into another kiss, tasting Harry's toothpaste of his lips and feeling two sets of hands on him. 

Harry’s fingertips walk over Niall’s hip, slipping up his belly as far as his t-shirt will allow with his palm a warm heat against his skin. Niall pushes into his hand and tries to keep his mind on kissing Zayn but he can’t concentrate properly with his mind spinning like it is now. He pulls away and stares at the way Zayn’s lips have gone puffy and how red he’s made them. They curl into a slow grin before he ducks down to bury his face against Harry’s neck. 

“Shit,” Harry gasps out, hand curling against Niall’s chest until his nails can dig into his skin. The other one comes up to sink into Zayn’s hair and Niall watches in fascination as Harry bucks underneath him. 

Niall feels hot all over just watching the way Zayn’s moved up to kiss Harry messily, leaving a bloom of red in his wake on the curve of his shoulder. Harry’s eyes flutter and suddenly his hand’s moving from Niall’s chest, grappling for Niall’s hand to grip. He squeezes at his fingers, tugging him down until Niall can suck down his jaw and lick over his collarbone. 

Harry’s groan is drowned out by Zayn sucking on his bottom lip and Niall grins into the side of Harry’s chest, nipping at his skin before pressing his lips to the mark. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Harry slurs, a hand slipping around Niall’s neck and squeezing at the muscle there but when Niall looks up he’s speaking to Zayn. Zayn’s panting slightly, still pressed in tight and Niall can see the push of his dick against the jut of Harry’s hip. 

“Yeah?” Zayn breathes quietly and Niall nearly doesn’t catch it. Harry nods slowly, eyes widening before he glances down at Niall to see his reaction. He turns his head so he doesn’t have to look at them, nosing his way across Harry’s abdomen until he can mouth at the tip of Zayn’s dick, the cotton of his boxers already dampening. “ _Fuck,_ “ Zayn chokes from above him and his hand is brushing over the back of Niall’s head too. “I have too. So long.” 

Harry groans at that, working his hips up but not getting very far because Niall’s lying across them. He fists his fingers in Zayn’s waistband, pulling his boxers down slowly, kissing every inch of skin he exposes as he goes.

“So long, both of you,” Zayn pants, his fingers tightening in his hair and giving it a quick tug. “C’mon, Niall.” 

Niall smiles into one of the tattoos on Zayn’s hip, licking across his skin until he can tongue at the head of his dick. 

“Shit,” Zayn groans again and there’s a slick sound of Harry and him kissing again. Niall hums around him, sucking more of his dick into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the tip. Harry’s twisting below him and before Niall’s aware of what’s going on he’s being pushed over onto his side and Harry’s crawling over him, leaving Zayn to flop back and whine at the loss of Niall‘s mouth. 

It gets a bit complicated then, Niall’s twisted, his arm below his back and Harry’s straddling his thighs so he can barely move out of his grip. Zayn’s knees keep knocking against his shoulder as he scrambles to pull at Harry’s pyjama bottoms and then suddenly, somehow, they’re all naked. 

Niall grins at them because Harry suddenly looks shy and Zayn eyes are going impossibly dark. Harry reaches out, circling a hand around the base of Zayn’s dick and gives it an experimental tug. Zayn whines again softly at the back of his throat, bucking into his fist and scrambling to palm at Harry. 

Niall’s happy to watch them get off together, he likes the way Zayn keeps making tiny noises at the back of his throat and how Harry throws his head back so Niall catches glimpses of the red splotches across his neck and collarbone. He settles against the headboard, palming at himself idly as Zayn pushes Harry onto his back, shoulder knocking into Niall’s calf so he can rut into him properly and explore down his chest with his tongue.

“Is there - ?” Harry reaches up, fingers scrambling to grasp at any bit of Niall’s skin he can reach. Niall shuffles down a bit instinctively, pressing his knee to the hot skin of Harry’s side and letting him twist his hand into the one Niall hasn’t got cupped around his own dick. He’s breathing hotly into the crease of Niall’s hip and Niall’s head’s beginning to spin because his mouth is so close to where he’s slowly fisting himself. 

“Niall, Niall - “ Harry gasps again, his hand flailing up to hit against the mattress. “Niall, get lube.” 

Niall’s breath catches in his throat and he glances around. They’re in Zayn’s room and Harry’s before that so he has no idea if there’s any just lying around. Zayn groans from down the bed, lips stretched prettily around Harry’s dick and he has to pull away to pant into Harry’s hip, his hand going to the squeeze at the base of his dick. 

“Drawer,” he gasps out, mouthing down Harry’s groin and hitching one of his thighs up. His chin disappears and Harry lets out a guttural sound from deep down in his throat. It makes Niall’s spine tingle and he’s not even the one who’s on the receiving end of Zayn’s tongue. 

“Fuck,” Harry babbles. “Zayn, fuck me, oh God.” He’s writhing now, fingers twisting in the sheets where Niall’s scrambling to the side to rifle through the beside drawer. 

“Why have you got all this crap in here?” Niall asks as he picks through comic strips and pairs of tweezers. 

“ _Niall,_ “ Zayn actually growls from where he’s settled between Harry’s trembling thighs. “Get on with it.”

Niall grins triumphantly when he finally finds a half empty bottle of lube. He rolls over again, settling back closer to Harry than before and smiling when he immediately turns into him, licking at the skin of his thigh and wrapping an arm around his knee to hold on to. 

He can’t really see from where he is but it’s fun to watch from Harry’s expression as Zayn slowly fingers him open. He watches as Harry’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and his lips push open into a perfect ’o’ shape or how his fingers leave tiny crescent marks on the skin of his thigh from where he’s digs in when Zayn ducks down to lick around where his fingers are slipping out of him. 

Niall has a condom ready for him when Zayn next pops up and he smiles gratefully at him, leaning up over Harry’s shaking body to kiss him sloppily. His lips are wet with spit and the faint taste of lube but Niall kisses him sloppily through it, arching up into him as much as he can with Harry sandwiched between them. 

“C’mon,” Harry mumbles, lips hardly moving as he looks up at them, eyes oddly bright for the way he’s strung out. “Don’t stop now, come on. Zayn, Zaynzaynzayn.” 

Niall can tell the way Harry’s behaving he won’t last but he doesn’t say anything, just budges down until Harry can muffle his whining into his side instead of his leg and he can run a hand through his fringe and pull it off his sweaty forehead. 

Harry whimpers then and Zayn’s making a low hum, hooking Harry’s legs over his arms as he pushes into him. 

“Shit,” Harry garbles, eyes shut as he pushes his face into the soft curve of Niall’s belly. Niall can feel his mouth moving wordlessly against his skin and feels a selfish thrum of want rush through him. He only needs to move a few more inches to the right and he could be sucking at Niall’s dick instead. 

He bites his lip to stop himself saying anything, turning his gaze away from Harry’s face to look at the way Zayn’s got him nearly bent in half and staring down at him intensely as he pulls out of him and slams back in. Harry’s whining now, a string of noises coming out of his mouth and Niall’s sure Harry doesn’t even know he’s making them. He rolls onto his side, groaning to himself as Harry’s forehead nudges against his dick, curls a soft tease against him, before getting his hand on Harry. His dick jumps in his hands and he’s coming after barely a stroke, spattering up over his chest and arching into him with a choked off sob. 

There’s a beat of silence and then Harry’s blinking his eyes open. He looks exhausted but he seems to realise now how close he is to Niall because he’s pawing at his hip and reaching out with his tongue to suck him into his mouth. Niall’s mind goes blank then, focusing on the hot wet warmth around him and how Harry looks far too sleepy to be swallowing around him, hollowing his cheeks and teasing with the tip of his tongue. He must miss Zayn come because the next thing he’s aware of is the way he’s suddenly nosing up Niall’s leg until he can bite at his hip and join in at licking at the head of Niall’s dick. 

“Shit,” Niall mutters, working his hips up and trying to get his mind around the fact that there’s a pair of tongues lapping messily over his dick. 

He comes across Zayn’s chin, catching the side of Harry’s jaw and down his neck. Harry groans along with him, slurping lazily at his skin. Zayn just rolls onto his side, curling up with his head pillowed near his hip and his hand settled at the crease of his thigh. Harry manages to wriggle up the mattress so he can slot under Niall’s arm before he slumps against him, eyes already closed and breathing evening out as if he was already asleep. 

He‘s not thought because he manages to murmur, “good first attempt lads,” into Niall’s armpit before falling promptly asleep. 

*

It’s crazy how Niall can so easily relax into it and the next few weeks go by without much drama. Zayn moves himself permanently into their room because the bed is a few inches wider and doesn’t squeak when they all move about too much. 

For the first time in ages Niall is truly content - he gets wrapped up in this new _thing_ they’ve got growing between the three of them, forgets about how he’s angry at his job, forgets he’s bored of washing all the dishes all day and cheering his two boyfriends on in their shitty football team and most of all he forgets his life was ever in any real threat. 

It’s late on a Thursday when the post comes and it’s a chilling reminder that Niall doesn’t actually live in the bubble of the flat, with only what they’re going to have for dinner and if the Eggheads will ever be beaten to worry about. 

The envelope is thicker this time and it makes Niall hesitate before opening it. He has no idea what could be in it and he stares at the blank spot where the stamp should be until he can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“What’s that?” Zayn asks quietly and Niall knows he’s been caught out. 

“Post,” he murmurs and shuffles to the sideboard beside the coat rail. He keeps his eyes down and knows that it makes him look worse. Zayn doesn’t let him get there, reaching out with a open palm for the letters instead. Niall smiles at him but it feels tight on his face when he hands over half of the bills to him. 

“Nothing that interesting,” Niall assures him, edging around him to head back towards the kitchen, the blank envelope clutched in his hand. 

“Niall,” Zayn mutters lowly and there’s an edge to his voice that Niall hasn’t heard aimed at him before. He turns his head and lets Zayn back him up against the wall. He’s able to twist the paper out of his hand even when Niall tries to keep a grip around it. 

“It’s nothing,” he says quietly when he finally gives up and lets Zayn rip the envelope out of his hand. He knows he’s doing a shit job at lying, he‘s trained to be more convincing but at the back of his mind he‘s sort of relieved that Zayn‘s caught him. It’s dragged on too long and this way Niall doesn’t have to be the one to bring it up. Zayn narrows his eyes at him and hardly takes a step back as he turns it over in his hand. 

“What is it?” Zayn asks because he isn’t stupid and knows that this isn’t the first one. Niall swallows and takes a deep breath. He can smell the aftershave Zayn put on this morning and Harry’s shampoo in his hair and it makes his mouth go dry. 

“A letter,” Niall squeaks and he’s got Zayn’s piercing stare back on him again. 

“I know that,” Zayn replies tightly and bumps their shoulders together before stepping back properly. He’s holding the envelope out at arms reach like and eyeing it warily - Niall misses his body heat pressed up against him. “I’m guessing you haven’t told Liam about this?” 

Niall shakes his head because his voice would give away how guilty he is at that. Liam should’ve been the first to know - weeks ago when they first started to arrive. Zayn swears under his breath and dips his hand into his pocket. 

“What are you doing?” Niall asks as he produces his phone and dials a number. He feels a bit panicky and it’s obvious that Zayn’s going to phone Liam but Niall can’t work out why. Zayn doesn’t work for Liam anymore. 

“Doing something you should’ve done a while ago I’m guessing.” He waves the envelope around and Niall cringes because he really doesn’t know what’s in this one this time. He reaches out for it and Zayn side steps him, glaring at him as he holds the phone to his ear. 

“He‘s on holiday,” Niall reaches for him again. “Liam deserves a day off, he - “

“He needs to know.” Zayn turns his back, the envelope held out in front of him and Niall tries to dodge around his arm. “Don’t fight me on this Niall - Liam, hey, do you think you can meet somewhere?” 

He’s talking into the phone now and Niall slumps against the wall opposite him. Zayn looks angry, his jaw tensing when he isn’t talking into the phone and Niall cringes again. He can only think about how much easier this would all be if he had just told them both when he first began to receive them. Zayn walks off into the kitchen, still chattering away with Liam but Niall doesn’t bother moving from his spot in the hallway. 

“Grab your coat,” Zayn mutters when he appears in the doorway. His phone is back in his pocket and he’s still got the envelope in his hands. “We’re meeting him at the park.” 

The park isn’t that far away but Zayn hardly speaks to him the whole way there. It only makes Niall feel more nervous - like he’s walking to the headmaster’s office and about to be rapped on the knuckles or given detention. It’s sort of blustery even though the sun’s out so Niall pulls his collar up around his neck and lets Zayn lead the way through the gates and down the path towards the football pitches. 

Liam’s huddled in a coat of his own sitting on a bench. He has an ice cream cone in his hand and Niall snorts because he’s never been good and trying to fit in when he’s meeting someone - it’s the middle of November for God’s sake. 

“Well don’t you look conspicuous,” Niall greets him and settles down beside him. Zayn rolls his eyes and sits so they’re on either side of him and Niall remembers why exactly he’s here. Liam’s face is stony has he passes the half melted ice cream to Niall and he accepts the sticky mess so he has something to do with his hands while they shout at him. 

“You’ve been keeping something from us then?” Liam asks and relaxes a bit now he’s rid of the ice cream. Niall winces and slurps on the strawberry sauce dripping over the edge of the cone. 

“Look - “ Niall begins and glances up at him. “I never meant to lie to you but I didn’t want to worry anyone further.” 

“Worry us?” Liam rolls his eyes. “It’s my job to worry about you whether you like it or not.” 

“Yeah well that’s all fair enough when I’m on the other side of the world and actually in some sort of danger,” Niall snaps and tightens his grip enough for the bottom of the wafer to crumble. “But if I had told you about this then I would never be able to get out onto the field again would I?” 

“No because you’d be dead,” Zayn bites out from his other side and Niall has to spin around to see his face. He’s trying hard to keep a blank expression but Niall can see how angry he is. It unsettles him for a moment because Zayn reaches out suddenly to grab at his hand and with a jolt, Niall realises that if it was the other way round he’d be just as worried. 

“Sorry,” Niall says very quietly and Liam looks away because this is something between them. “I wasn’t thinking ok?” 

Zayn snorts but leans towards him until their shoulders brush up against each other. Niall’s aware that they’re in public and that Liam’s shifting awkwardly away from them so he doesn’t press forward to kiss him like he wants to. 

“Right let me see it then?” Liam sighs and Zayn sits back to pull the envelope out of his jacket. Liam’s got gloves on and everything and Niall flushes again at how he had taken it so lightly. He turns it over and few times in his hands and hums to himself. 

“I’ll take it in to get checked over,” Liam mumbles and glances up at Niall. “I’ll try and not let too many people find out because it won’t look good.” Niall nods and stays silent. Zayn’s hand is warm when it grips his suddenly. The ice cream in his other hand is dripping down his wrist but he doesn’t care because Liam’s face is suddenly so earnest. “This is really disappointing Niall.” 

He feels like he’s being told off by his dad and Niall swallows down the lump in his throat. “I know I’m sorry Liam.” Zayn squeezes his hand and he feels ill. It’s starting to rain a bit and the sun’s hidden behind a black cloud looming off in the distance - Niall thinks it reflects his mood perfectly. 

Liam gives him a tight smile and stands up. “I’ll phone you soon ok?” 

“Yeah,” Niall replies dully and gives the ice cream in his fist a lick. Zayn snorts softly beside him and pulls him into a half cuddle. 

“It’s better that we know now,” he murmurs. “We can get it sorted now.” 

Niall nods silently and eats more of his ice cream trying not to think of how little control he’s got left. 

*

It’s still raining by Saturday morning and the pitch is muddy. Niall can’t sit down so he stands by the sidelines under an umbrella with two jumpers on and his hands under his armpits. He doesn’t know why he bothered to come but Harry had pouted at him in bed this morning and decided that it should be a group activity.

Zayn’s already spattered with mud, streaked up to his knees in it and you wouldn’t be able to tell that Harry’s shirt used to be white. Liam is grumbling beside him and Niall regrets inviting him in the first place but he had asked him before the whole drama with the letter and uninviting him after it would look bad. 

“It’s a Saturday we shouldn’t be talking about work,” Niall mutters quietly when Liam brings it up, aware of prying ears even over the spatter of rain. 

“We don’t really work a nine to five job Niall,” Liam states, pulling the collar of his jacket up around him and Niall wonders if he’s wearing a tie under there too. 

“Well it’s starting to feel like it,” Niall complains, kicking his feet to get some of the blood into his toes again. “It’s never been this long between missions before.” 

Liam pulls a face. “I know, and I’m really sorry, I’m trying to get them to allow you onto another job but they said that you’re a -” 

He trails off and glances sideways at him. His face is pulled into a tortured expression and Niall’s already sulky mood plummets. 

“Just say it Liam,” Niall mutters and tries to keep his face schooled straight ahead. 

“They think that you’re - you’re a liability.” Liam winces again and joins in on Niall’s foot stomping dance in the puddle they’re standing in. “Look, they’ll declare you fit to work in no time, I wouldn’t worry about it. They‘re just taking precautions.” 

Niall waits because Liam’s pause at the end of his sentence seems pregnant. 

“Go on,” Niall hints again and Liam’s shoulders slump. 

“I just really wish you had told me about the letters sooner. They think you’re hiding things from them.”

Niall sighs and glares out at the football pitch. Liam’s pep talk isn’t helping his mood and he’s already in Zayn’s bad books that he doesn’t need to be reminded of how he’s messed up. He curls his fingers into the top of his ribs to try and stay warm and Liam steps closer to him until they’re sharing heat. 

“It’ll all work out,“ he says hopefully but Niall just nods. He doesn’t need to hear Liam tell him this again, he hasn’t been stationed at home this long in ages and Niall’s time off seems to be stretching further and further. 

“What if it never gets finished?” Niall asks and Liam actually turns right around to look at him. “What if it just gets worse and worse?” 

“It will get finished,” Liam insists, stepping closer again to press his shoulder against him. It doesn’t do much to reassure him through three or four layers of fabric but Niall’s touched by the gesture all the same. 

“We haven’t had any new leads in ages,” Niall complains, letting his voice drop again. “There’s nothing on the letters and there’s no new hits on the evidence from Morocco. It’s like they’ve disappeared to somewhere close to a post office so they can conveniently send me some threatening envelopes every few weeks.” 

Liam looks at him exasperatedly and shakes his head. “No, you can’t think of it like that.” 

Niall can’t help roll his eyes and turns to watch the football again because he doesn’t want to get into another argument with Liam over it. 

“Are they going to clear me to use my gun ever again?“ Niall snipes because apparently he can’t let it lie. “These fuckers are a threat and I can’t defend myself? My home?“ 

Liam shrugs, he glances sheepishly at the ground and up at Niall again. “You’ve got Zayn.“ 

Niall snorts. “Yeah, Zayn my sort of -“ 

He cuts off as it begins to dawn on him and Liam’s face contorts when he realises he’s been caught. 

“Oh my _God_ , I am going to kill you!“ Niall growls and steps closer until their umbrellas bash together and a few drops of rain spatter Niall’s face. “Zayn’s on a _job?_ “

Liam winces again and glances out onto the field as if somehow Zayn had heard their conversation. He’s still at the far end of the pitch though, dribbling the ball around somebody’s legs and passing to Louis up field. 

“ _Liam,_ “

Liam sighs and runs a gloved had through his hair. It makes it stick up but Niall has no patience to fix it for him. “It’s not a job exactly,”

“It is,“ Niall accuses. He feels a hot wave of humiliation rise up in his gut because Zayn is supposed to be his kind of boyfriend and now he’s just realising that he’s been sent to be his kind of bodyguard this whole time. He remembers the day he caught him outside the shop and groans because Zayn had been following _him_.

“It’s not,“ Liam presses out through gritted teeth. “He was going to be in London so I mentioned that maybe someone needed to keep an eye on you. He was worried as well, he asked me about you as soon as he came back from Morocco and he said he would look into it.”

“Liam,“ Niall groans and turns his face to the wind to cool down a bit. “That is so unprofessional.”

Liam snorts and only blushes a little compared to how Niall is practically glowing. “How was I supposed to know that you two would hook up? Or that he would move in?” 

Niall huffs because he supposes that definitely wasn’t part of the brief. He opens his mouth to rebuke him but Louis scores the winning goal and the whole pitch descends into a yell of commotion as the whole team sprints over to him to pull him down to the mud together because they’ve finally won something. 

Zayn’s at the far end of the pitch and Niall watches as Zayn meets Harry half way, they hug and from the way their heads go together, he knows that they’re kissing. It makes him smile and he supposes that maybe Zayn coming to watch out for him wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen to him. 

The few other spectators start to make their way onto the pitch so Niall grabs Liam by the wrist and tugs him onto the grass. He has the sudden urge to get Zayn within reach so he can shout at him or something. 

“Not a word of this to them pair,” Niall orders and Liam nods, making Niall glad for a moment that Liam’s going to do what he’s told. Their feet squelch into the grass and Liam groans as he tries to keep up with Niall as he strides across the field. 

“Well done,” Niall can’t help but match Zayn’s grin when he gets within arms length of him. A minute ago he was ready to punch him but he looks so cute, muddy up to the knees and his cheeks still red. 

“We won,” he laughs, pulling Niall into a muddy hug. Niall tries to fight him but Harry moulds himself to his back and he grins into Zayn’s shoulder, letting the wet from their jerseys soak into him. 

“Niall!” Harry yells into his ear. “Niall! Let’s go for a drink, we won! Liam! We won!” 

Niall snorts, leaning in to kiss the corner of Zayn’s grin before Harry’s hands are on his shoulder and turning him so he can press one to his lips too. Zayn whines and shuffles after him, tries to worm his way between them until Niall’s caught in a tangle of limbs. Liam is rolling his eyes when they all untangle from each other but Niall can see the fond smile hidden under his exasperation. 

“Drinks!” Harry demands again leaning his head on Zayn’s shoulder, arms draping over around his neck and giving Niall his best pout.

They all end up in Louis’ flat a few showers later. Harry’s in the middle of the sofa, Louis pressed up against him and they’re sharing a bottle of murky red wine. Liam’s perched between two of Louis’s football friends, fingers wrapped around a glass and turning slightly pink as Louis tells them a story. 

“Never won anything before,” Zayn tells Niall right into his ear. He has him squeezed into the armchair near the fireplace and Niall can hardly hear him over the rest of the team shouting across each other in the living room. “It feels like -” he breaks off and waves his hand in front of him. 

Niall grins because he’s nearly sure that Zayn does plenty of things everyday to make him feel like this. Zayn noses at his cheek before turning his head and nibbling at Niall’s earlobe. 

“Want to go find a bedroom?” Zayn whispers into his ear, arm wriggling around Niall’s waist to splay across his lower belly. Niall squirms, raising his eyes just enough to catch Harry’s intense gaze from across the room. 

“I think Louis would actually hate us,” Niall mumbles back, rolling his head around on Zayn’s shoulder to speak into his jaw. Zayn leans against him with a small smirk and pushes his fingers down enough that just the tips of them can push into the waistband of his jeans. 

“He already does,” Zayn snorts, lips dragging against Niall’s cheek. Niall can feel the peak of a tongue before he’s sitting up, wobbling a little bit and reaching back for Zayn’s hand. 

“Maybe a sneaky snog in the bathroom would be alright?” Niall shrugs and pulls him off the chair. Zayn chuckles loudly, slinging an arm over Niall’s shoulder and pulls him off towards the hallway. There’s time to throw a look over his shoulder to see what Harry’s thinks but the smirk on his face tells him that he knows exactly what they’re up to. 

Someone’s in the bathroom and they take a moment to kiss against the door before Zayn’s tugging him further down the hallway, hand blinding swiping the air to find another doorknob. 

It’s dark when they stumble through one of the doors at the bottom of the hallway, the curtains must be closed because it’s hardly four in the afternoon and the sun isn’t properly down yet. 

“Light?” Zayn mumbles against Niall’s lips, one hand clamped around his hip and the other scrambling for the light switch on the wall beside Niall’s head. Niall laughs into the curve of Zayn’s shoulder when he can’t find it, nuzzling over up his jaw until he can suck Zayn’s bottom lip into his mouth. Zayn groans into him, circling his hips in an agonizingly slow grind. He hears the click of the light over the sound of their harsh breathing and feels his insides run cold. 

“What’s wrong?” Zayn asks nearly immediately but Niall can’t speak, his eyes are trained to the wall behind Zayn’s head where he can see a hundred doubles of it glued to the wall. 

“What the fuck?” Niall mutters, hand dropping out of Zayn’s hair like a dead weight and pushing past him to get closer to the wall. The room’s set up like an office and some of the photos are tacked to a cork notice board but more spill out over the wall in a huge collage of Zayn, Harry, Liam and his own faces. 

“Holy shit,” Zayn’s voice sounds faint behind him and then he feels the heat of his arm against his and he comes to stand in front of the table beside him. “What the fuck is this?” 

“Us,” Niall mutters, raising a hand to run his finger over the edge of the one of the photos. It’s of him and Harry, walking down the road that Niall recognises as the one with their flat on but it looks old, there’s leaves in the tree and Niall’s hair is blonder than it’s been in months. “This is last year.” 

“This is like something you see in a film,” Zayn mutters, slapping Niall’s hand away when he reaches for another one of Zayn on his own, cigarette in hand and standing outside a Spar in the rain. 

“I think we should go,” Niall mutters. “We should tell Liam.” 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Zayn asks already reaching for the door handle and bundling Niall out into the hallway. 

“There you are,” Harry grins at them. Niall forces a smile onto his face and reaches for Harry’s hand. 

“We were thinking of just getting out of here,” Niall tells him, forcing his voice to be bright. Zayn follows him like a shadow and presses up against Harry’s other side with a matching smile on his face. It’s not that Niall thinks that Harry needs to be protected but he doesn’t think Harry would take seeing evidence of his best friend being a stalker after a bottle of wine so well.

Harry laughs. “Can’t keep it together for one party?” 

“Something like that,” Zayn gives him a fond smile and presses forward to kiss him. Niall’s heart is beating for an entirely different reason so he watches them for as long as he can be patient for until he has to pull them apart and march them down the hall. 

“Coats,” Niall orders, tugging at the each hand. “Come on.” 

Harry laughs again, grabbing his coat and going over to nuzzle into Louis’ neck. Zayn pauses, hand curling tightly into the hood of Niall’s coat as he hands it to him. 

“We’re going yeah?” They can hear Harry telling him with a dopey grin on his face. Louis looks up at him and nods before looking across the room at Niall and Zayn. Niall feels like he’s caught in headlights and the way Louis’ smile falls off his face into a calculating stare sends a shiver down his spine. 

“What is going on?” Zayn hums into his ear, thrusting Niall’s coat into his arm and walking off towards the door with an obligatory wave to the rest of the team gathered on Louis’ sofas. Liam scrambles up off the sofa and frowns at them. 

“What’s happened?” he asks, lips stained a little by the wine. 

Zayn steps in close, “the back room. There’s photos of us all up on the wall.” 

“Shit,” Liam exclaims a bit too loudly for the front hall so Niall shushes him. “So you were right?” Liam continues on and Niall has to frown. Zayn tenses his shoulders and glances over at Niall. He looks a bit shifty. 

“Right about what?” Niall frowns. Liam winces.

“Sorry,” he murmurs at Zayn before glancing up at Niall. “Zayn’s had a theory.” 

“A theory?” Niall asks. 

“Don’t say it like that,” Zayn sighs and finally meets his gaze. “Something I’ve been working on.” 

“All the recon in London?” Niall asks him again and Liam raises his eyebrows which makes Niall snort. “What? You didn’t think I noticed that he was doing something the whole time he’s been living with me?” 

Liam shrugs and Zayn has the nerve to look vaguely embarrassed. “It wasn’t really a job,” Zayn explains quietly. Niall looks over his shoulder because this isn’t really the best place to be discussing this. Harry’s still in the living room saying his goodbyes. “Just something I found and wanted to look into before I told anyone officially.” 

“But Liam knows,” Niall can feel the adrenaline start to kick in and along with the beer he can’t help himself. He knows he’s being a bit of a dick but something in the tone of Zayn’s voice and how Liam’s looking between them guiltily is making him uneasy. Plus it’s been ages since he’s done anything interesting except watch daytime antiquing shows so it’s making him persistent. It’s been brewing in his stomach all afternoon Niall realises and he knows that Zayn doesn’t deserve the brunt of how fucked off he is with his job but it’s already making him feel better to row about it. 

Zayn sighs, “I’m not arguing about this here.” 

“Why?” Niall demands and knows that he sounds ridiculous. Zayn rolls his eyes when he pulls his coat on and Niall‘s blood all but boils. 

“Because who’s front hall are you currently standing in?” Zayn bites out and does up the zip. Liam looks like he wants to melt into the overflowing coat rack. Niall glares at him until Zayn rolls his eyes again and steps in close. It’s not hot like it had been before and Niall can see the way his nostrils are flaring this close. 

“Look, I was suspicious of our best mate Louis here so I did some digging.” 

That startles Niall and nearly throws him off. “Is that why you came to me? Why you took up Liam’s offer of being my babysitter.” 

“It wasn’t a babysitter,” Liam defends from where the coats are nearly enveloping him but he hardly hears him because Zayn’s face is falling and Niall can see the guilt in Zayn’s eyes. 

“Oh my God,” Niall murmurs because even though he was trying his best to pick a fight he hadn’t been prepared there to be truth in it. “Was all this part of your _cover_?”

“I hear you boys are leaving?” Louis’ voice asks from behind them and Niall spins around, a smile plastered over his face. Harry’s standing over his shoulder and grinning at them, wrestling his arms into his coat and giggling when he nearly gets stuck. 

“Yeah,” Niall smiles back at him. “Things to do and all that.” 

“I bet,” Louis smiles. Niall watches as his gaze flicks between them all. None of it makes sense, sure Louis can be a dick sometimes but he’s hardly a criminal mastermind. 

“I’m just going to pop to the loo,” Liam mutters and slips past them. Niall can see him walk past the bathroom door and continue on down the hall over Louis’ shoulder. 

“Well nice to see you,” Louis mutters and offers his only genuine smile at Harry. Harry grins back and slings his back over his shoulder. 

“See you later Lou,” he smiles and turns to Zayn with a giggle. “Onwards.”

“What’s wrong with you two?” Harry asks once they’re out into the cool air and the smiles have dropped off Niall and Zayn’s face. “I thought we were going fuck?” 

He reaches out and tugs on Niall’s belt loop. Niall looks up at him but he can’t keep the frown off his face. 

Harry’s face falls. “Or at lease make out?” He whips his head over to look at Zayn who’s half a pace ahead of them already and they’ve barely made it off Louis’ road. “Guys…”

He trails off and Niall sighs because it’s hardly Harry’s fault that he‘s pissed off with Zayn. They all trail to a stop and Harry looks between them again. 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Niall tells him, lifting at arm and offering him under it. Harry stares at him and stays silent for a long moment, long enough for Niall’s arm to begin to ache a little bit. 

“You’re keeping something from me,” he mutters and it doesn’t have the heat of an accusation behind it. Zayn turns his head but doesn’t say anything and Harry’s shoulders slump. 

Niall lets his arm fall and glances over at Zayn who still won’t look at him. 

“I promise I’ll tell you when I can,” Niall tells him and catches his eye again. Harry pouts a bit and nods, his expression defeated. Zayn’s took a step forward again and Niall knows he just wants to get home. “Come on, lets get home.” 

Harry nods and they all start down the street again. After about five steps Niall feels Harry’s palm over his and he pulls his arm up again, letting him settle in under his armpit. It’s a bit awkward to walk like this because Harry’s a bit taller than him but Niall noses at Harry’s temple and brushes his lips there because he’s still pouting. 

It’s not until later in bed, when Harry’s out cold between them that Zayn finally brings it up again. 

“It is what brought me back to London,” he whispers into the dark and Niall’s chest seizes up. It’s silent for a few more moments, just the sound of Harry’s breathing. Niall can feel wetness in his eyes and curses himself for getting all caught up in Zayn to begin with. 

“But.” Niall feels Zayn’s hand on his side and when he turns his head to look past Harry he can see the whites of Zayn’s eyes and the faint outline of him leaning up in bed. “It’s not what made me stay.” 

There’s a lump in Niall’s throat now.

“Do you understand what I’m saying Niall?” Zayn asks and there’s an urgency in his tone. “Niall? Do you get what I mean?” 

“The night you first came here…” Niall doesn’t know how to actually ask him and he doesn’t know if he wants to know the answer. Zayn’s quiet for a few long stretching moments. 

“It was an accident,” Zayn murmurs, resignation heavy in his tone. “Your house was the only person close by I thought of.” 

Niall doesn’t answer, just waits. 

“I was trailing a few people who had recently been in Morocco.” 

Niall squeezes his eyes shut and ignores the tear that’s beading there. He can’t pinpoint why it’s making him so upset - he had just never expected it to be kept from him. 

“It doesn’t change how I feel now though,” Zayn murmurs, so quiet that Niall nearly doesn’t hear him. Harry snuffles between them, a loud reminder in the otherwise silent room that there’s another person in the relationship to worry about. 

“Niall,” Zayn tries again into the darkness and Niall supposes he has to respond, if only just to get him to stop. 

“Go to sleep Zayn,” Niall manages to choke out because he’s tired and it’s all getting a bit too much. The whole days been too much. 

Zayn slumps back into the pillows and Niall tries to ignore the way he sniffles and cuddles up to Harry. Niall does the same on his other side, moulding himself to the warmth of Harry’s back.

*

Niall can tell something's off as soon as he wakes up, his gut clenches and he sweeps his hand behind him in search of Harry to make sure he's alright.

“Hrrrmph,” Harry grunts when Niall’s arm lands across his shoulder blade,

“Sorry,” Niall mutters and rolls over properly to search the rest of the bed for Zayn. He's not there and normally it wouldn’t worry him because he sometimes gets up before them to go smoke before coming to slip back in with them but their argument from last night flashes back into his mind and Niall feels a little sick at the thought that he‘s left. 

He settles back beside Harry for a moment, head spinning through possible scenarios when there’s a crash in the kitchen. Harry startles awake but Niall’s already out of the bed and halfway into the kitchen. 

“Niall!” Harry panics behind him, untangling himself from the covers to follow him out into the hallway. 

The front door is lying open, leaning slightly lop sided from the hinge at the top and the vase by the door is already broken. There’s two men in the kitchen already, one of them around the same age and the other slightly older. 

“Who are you?“ Zayn’s on his feet, kicking out at one of them and Niall feels his belly turn to lead. The one closest to him is taller and Niall’s shoulders strain when he loops an arm around his neck and drags him backwards. Niall hits the countertop hard, staggering into it with the weight of the man in front of him. He’s twisting in his grip and Niall has to clamp his legs around his waist to keep him from wrenching away. 

“Zayn!” Harry cries out from the doorway and Niall lets go of his hold in shock. He had nearly forgotten that Harry was near them. 

Niall will remember it in fragments later - Harry’s face as he sinks to the ground, arm up around his eyes to protect himself as he curls into the cupboard they keep the saucepans in. 

He’ll remember Zayn’s bloody knuckles and the look he gives him when someone produces a gun and the sound it makes when it goes off. 

He’ll remember picking up a bread knife but won’t remember how he sunk it into the older man’s stomach because a second later he’s out cold. 

He’s disorientated for a long moment and it feels like he’s turned to jelly. He can feel his own chest rise and fall but there's a sharp ache below his ribs so he doesn't want to move too much. He slaps his hand off the cool floor, partly just to be sure that his limbs still work and heaves a breath to try and alleviate the dull roar behind his eyes. 

There’s a noise off to his left that he _knows_ belongs to Harry and it makes him inhale sharply, sending a throb of pain across his side. 

"Ha-Harry," he manages to gasp out and there's a sudden scrambling until Harry's face is suddenly in his eyeline. 

"Thank fuck," he breathes out, voice wobbling. His eyes looks a little glassy and Niall opens his mouth to reassure him but Harry's pressing a kiss to his lips before he can get any words out. He pulls away just as quick, cupping a hand around his cheek and helping him up. Niall pulls in another shocked breath and clutches at his chest where it throbs. Harry's got a faint swelling below his right eye and its going to develop into a beaut of a shiner in the morning. Niall scans him, cataloguing any injuries. There's blood on Harry's collar and when he spits, it's red. 

"Are you alright?" Niall asks, throwing an arm out to catch the side of Harry's face and turn him gently towards the light. "You ok?" 

"Yes," Harry bites out and turns back to him, his voice is shaky and his eyes keep darting over Niall‘s shoulder but he seems fine. "You're the one that's hurt." Niall bats his hand away, he's been hurt far worse than this before. He doesn't tell Harry that, he doesn’t want him to worry. 

"Are you sure you’re alright?" Niall asks shifting forward to cup at Harry's jaw gently because he needs to make sure he’s alright before he gets up. He nods, wincing as he stretches his jaw out and keeps his wide eyes trained on Niall’s. 

"I think so," he mutters shakily, "better than you anyway." 

He looks worried again and Niall tries to shrug him off. Climbing to his feet slowly and looking around at the carnage of his kitchen. He’s still stunned, like he can’t figure out what happened. His head is starting to throb, just behind his eyes and then sharper down the side of his head. The kitchen is a mess, broken plates and glass smashed across the counters and there’s a trail of blood across the tiles. He can see that the front door is still ajar and everything is eerily silent after all the commotion. 

“Oh God,” Niall croaks as he suddenly remembers they’re missing Zayn. “Where is he?” Harry makes a little noise from Niall’s feet and he trips a bit as he follows the drops of blood out into the living room. 

“Fuck,“ Niall mutters to himself, unable to keep his thoughts to himself. There’s a body lying just by the door, a halo of blood soaked into the carpet around them and Niall hates himself for being relieved that it isn’t Zayn. 

“Is - is he - is he dead?” Harry gasps from where he’s left him and when Niall turns round he can see how he’s curled impossibly around himself, hand buried in his hair and pushing his fringe roughly out of his forehead. 

“No,” Niall murmurs on instinct even though he’s lying. He’s lost too much blood and if he isn’t dead yet he will be soon. The living room is a mess around him and Niall wonders for a moment if Zayn moved the fight in here away from the kitchen. He still feels faint and he feels a wave of nausea when he thinks of Zayn at all so he moves back into the kitchen to focus on Harry, grabbing the phone off the counter. "Harry, I need you to go and grab a bag, fill it with some clothes, just a few shirts, not too many." 

Harry stares at him for a moment, mouth opening and then closing before he gives him a shaky nod. Niall waits until he’s got to his feet and out the door before he goes back to the man in the living room. There’s nothing in his pockets and he’s definitely not breathing now so Niall sends Liam a text and follows Harry down the hall into their bedroom. 

He has a bag half packed, two jumpers and a few old t-shirts. He’s not even really looking when he stuffs in a pair of tatty pyjama bottoms and Zayn’s football shorts. Harry looks up when Niall walks in, shoulders tensing until Niall smiles reassuringly at him. 

“Things we’ll actually wear,” Niall tells him and pulls out the shorts. Harry nods quickly grabbing a bundle of underwear from the drawer. Niall drops his knees and looks under the bed, reappearing with a thick black case he keeps hidden. 

“What’s that?” Harry gasps when Niall unclasps the lid and pushes it open. 

"Sssh." Niall hushes him, pulling back the first cover and allowing Harry a glimpse at the guns inside. “We’ll probably not need them.” He forces a smile onto his face but Harry’s already shaking his head. 

“Oh God,” Harry mutters when Niall wrenches one from the case and thrusts it into the bag along with the jumpers Harry had packed and a few boxes of ammo. He pushes the pile of underwear on top and zips it up. 

“Don’t think about it,” Niall tells him, catching his jaw with one of his hands and sliding the other into his hair at the back of his neck. “It’s just in case.” 

Harry nods shakily and Niall gives him a moment before he presses his lips against Harry’s lips. He doesn’t respond but Niall hadn’t been expecting him to. He pulls back and rifles through their drawers until he finds a pair of jeans that he knows won’t rip and pulls them on. He throws a pair at Harry and sticks the other gun into his waistband. It feels cool against his back as he pulls on a loose jumper but it calms him, a reassuring weight against his spine. His side still hurts and there’s an ache behind his eyes but his mind feels oddly clear. 

“Let’s go,” he whispers, pulling Harry in close for a final reassuring hug before he’s pushing him out into the hallway and looking for their coats. 

*

The line to Liam is crackly at best and Niall has to press the cheap phone close to his ear to even hear him. Harry's hovering nervously at his elbow, throwing looks over his shoulder every so often but they're standing in the middle of a busy shopping area so Niall knows he won't see anything out of the ordinary.

“Not auth-" Liam's voice crackles over the phone and Niall jams his fist into his ear. He closes his eyes for a moment, listening intently to Liam’s distant voice. “- the system, I think they’re - block me from - ”

“What?” he asks again, only catching half of Liam's sentence. “What's not authorised?”

“The search for Zayn.” Finally Liam comes across clear over the line and Niall immediately detects the anxiety in his voice. “They won't let me deploy a team to get him. I think they’re doing it purposely.”

“Fuck,” Niall swears. “That’s bullshit.” Harry whips his head round, concern etched all over his face. “What utter cunts the lot of them,” Niall tells Liam. He can't get his head around it but at the same time he wouldn't put it past his superiors to not want to get involved. 

Liam sighs down the phone and Niall has to listen very carefully now. He keeps his gaze on Harry who is getting paler by the minute. He shifts in front of him, readjusting the bag on his shoulder carefully, like he's still fully aware of what's in it. 

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Niall asks finally because it becomes clear Liam isn't going to instigate the conversation any further. He hears him sigh again, then move about and he's suddenly crackling again. 

“Call me at home later,” Liam tells him, he’s whispering and Niall swallows down an apology, suddenly feeling guilty of putting Liam's job at a risk. Liam's quiet for another long moment before he deliberately murmurs, “we can get dinner and I've got custard for afters.”

Niall’s breath leaves him for a moment. He hadn't thought he would ever hear Liam say their code word. He flicks his gaze up to Harry before forcing a smile on his face. 

“Brilliant, I love custard.“ Niall watches as Harry pulls a face because he knows that both of them hate it. Niall’s still smiling though, gritting his teeth and trying to keep his voice level.

“Right, well, I better watch the time, I’ll see you later then.”

He hangs up before Liam gets a chance to say anything and hopes to God that Liam remembers where to meet him. He reaches out for Harry's bony wrist and drags him down the street. It’s nearly Christmas so there's plenty of people about and it’s easy enough to slip his phone into the bag of an unsuspecting shopper. Harry follows him, mouth hanging open slightly before he catches on where they're off to and takes the lead, wrapping his fingers loosely around Niall’s hand before dropping it to rummage through his pockets for his keys. 

“Here?” Harry asks quietly. Niall nods mutely, tightening his hold on Harry’s wrist as they walk down the alleyway together. Niall can’t help feel a little proud at how fast Harry caught on and he crowds in close as Harry jimmies the key in the ancient lock of the back door to the watch shop. Niall pushes him through, reaching for Harry's hand before he can switch on the lights, he closes the door tightly and gives Harry a reassuring grin. 

“Just in case,” Niall murmurs nodding to the light hanging from the ceiling above them. He moves around the back of the shop as best as he can remember, just like his house, Harry moves everything around more often than he leaves it. In the dim of the back room he manages to find the squidgy sofa that used to sit in their old student house and sinks into it, watching as Harry shuffles over to him and slides down on the leather beside him. He sets the bag carefully on the floor and Niall muffles a laugh into his sleeve.

“It won't explode in your hand you know?” Niall murmurs and pulls him in close. Harry goes with him and he can just about make out his unimpressed expression. 

“And how am I to know that? I handle cogs and pendulums all day while you're out training how to use rifles and all sorts.” Harry mutters, pulling away as if remembering he’s supposed to be annoyed at him. 

“It's not a rifle,” Niall rolls his eyes and catches the way Harry's narrow. He pulls him down again into his chest so his head is awkwardly pressed against his heart. “Sorry,” he finally murmurs into Harry's hair because now is not the time to pick a fight. “Sometimes it's easy to forget that you aren't doing all this with me.” 

Harry shrugs but doesn't move, only shuffling about to get comfortable and wrapping his arm around Niall’s waist. “What's going to happen?” he asks into the fabric of Niall’s coat. It sounds very small against his shoulder so Niall hugs him closer. “What are we going to do?” 

“We’re going to find Zayn.” Niall says optimistically, ignoring how his chest tightens at the thought of Zayn. He has no idea where he could be or what sort of state he’s in and it chills him to think about it. “And then we’ll see what happens after that.” 

Harry swallows, nodding once before pulling his feet up onto the sofa so he can bury his head into his knees, “Ok,” he tells the denim of his jeans, tipping over so he can pillow his head against Niall’s arm again. His eyes are closed and Niall can't help rub his hands through his hair until his breathing evens out.

Niall’s nearly asleep too when a few hours later, there's three taps on the window beside the back door. He shifts, Harry mumbling sleepily into his thigh and finally rolls away from him so Niall can get up without waking him too much. Liam looks stressed when he opens the door just enough for him to slip through.

“This is a risky place to meet,“ Liam accuses, waiting a moment before pulling him into a tight hug. “I'm glad you're ok,” he whispers into his neck before pulling back and becoming stern again. “Loads of people know about this place you know!” He eyes slide accusingly over to Harry. “It's not like you follow all the secrecy rules.” 

Niall rolls his eyes, stepping closer to Harry automatically as if to protect him. Harry shifts a bit and his mouth is already pushing out into a sleepy pout. “Lets not get into this tonight,” he suggests and sits down again. It’s fully dark outside so Niall flicks on one of the tiny lamps that Harry uses for intricate work, it’s precise and sharp but too dim in the dark room for people to see from outside, Liam sighs, sliding into a seat at the table. Harry curls in on himself further on the sofa but Niall knows he's awake and listening intently.

“I can't find his exact location,“ Liam sighs, pulling out a map from his bag and some worn notebooks that Niall knows he scribbles notes into sometimes. “But I’ve got some leads from some of the intelligence I was able to gather before I got shut out.”

Niall frowns across the table at him and Liam heaves a sigh, looking back down at the map so he doesn’t have to look at Niall anymore. “Don't worry about it,” Liam murmurs as he unfurls the map and spreads it out across the rickety kitchen table Harry sometimes sits at to do his work. Niall gets up, peering over in the dim light to see the two circles Liam has drawn over a city map that Niall quickly works out is Paris. Liam points to the overlap, a broad oval of about three or four streets. 

“He's somewhere here.” Liam murmurs, running his fingers over the oval. “They got him out of the country quickly, before we could shut down the trains. It must have been a planned professional hit,“ he concludes lightly and Niall nods numbly. He isn’t sure how he feels about that. Normally he would be glad - it was planned and the people he’s tracking probably have a plan that they can try to crack but he feels sick when he realises that this just isn‘t another mission, another mark that they‘re looking for in a foreign city and tracking through CCTV and phone signals. It‘s _Zayn_ , the man who had been living in his house and sharing his bed for the past two months. The man who saved his life and Niall‘s fallen quite in love with. He takes a deep breath and looks over his shoulder at where Harry‘s blinking silently at him. 

“How did they know he would be at ours though?” Harry suddenly pipes up. Liam's gaze flickers over to him, hesitating but answering him finally with a deep breath.

“He doesn’t know?” Liam murmurs to Niall and Niall shakes his head. 

“Know _what_?” Harry demands. His voice is a bit hoarse from sleep but he sits up on the sofa quickly, sitting up straight and broadening his shoulders. 

“They were probably following you,” Liam answers him flatly, not trying to soften the blow at all. Niall’s stomach twists again as he gets a sudden image of all the photos on Louis’ wall.

“They?” Harry’s voice is sharp and Niall feels a hot rush of guilt as he looks over his shoulder. He can’t look at his face when he tells him so he glances back down at the map of Paris. 

“I think Louis’ involved.” 

Niall winces at the sound Harry makes behind him. Like the breath has just been punched out of his chest. It’s followed by a hoarse laugh, a cough and then another more hysterical laugh.

“It's fine Harry,” Niall soothes immediately even though he feels like he might vomit. He moves over to Harry on the sofa and reaches a hand out to placate him but Harry shakes his head, shifting out of Niall’s reach.

“No it’s not!” Harry exclaims indignantly, eyes widening further and looking between them. “What’s he got to do with it?”

Niall takes a breath to steady himself but Harry shakes his head, turning away from him and sitting hunched in the corner of the sofa making sure that there‘s a gap between them. 

“Harry, we found photos of us all in his house,” Niall starts to explain but he doesn’t know where to begin. Harry’s shoulders tense and he doesn’t look around at him so he presses on. “Zayn’s been thinking he’s involved for a while now,” 

“Convenient that he’s not here isn’t it?” Harry mumbles and then winces. Niall takes a deep breath and reaches out for his hand again. Harry dodges it last minute, folding his hands under his armpits until he’s all pulled in tight again. 

“He’s not in his house,” Liam tells him quietly and Harry flinches again. “We sent a few people around and he’s not there.” 

“He’s on holiday,” Harry mumbles stubbornly but Niall can see the doubt beginning to seep into his expression. 

Liam clears his throat calmly, fingers tapping on the worn map again and Niall turns his attention back to him, Harry a dark shadow in the corner of his eye. 

“You need to get on the first train to Paris. They'll probably be on to you by first light. I think there’s one at half five,” Liam tells him flicking through his notebook. 

Niall nods, head spinning as he takes everything in. He turns in the chair and looks at Harry. “I can get you on their first train back to Manchester from St. Pancreas in the morning Harry.” 

Harry’s already shaking his head. “I'm not going anywhere near home,” he laughs a bit manically again, shaking his head harder and Liam twitches from across the table. Niall sighs turning to Liam but he's already shaking his head. 

“You know it won't be safe,” he mutters finally looking over in Harry‘s direction. Niall doesn‘t look behind him to see his expression. Niall knows he's probably right but he can't see how leaving Harry behind is going to make him more sage either. 

“Right,” Niall mutters, his tone flat. “Let’s all go to Paris then.” 

*

The train station is busy when they get there. It’s still dark outside and the lights inside are bright against Niall’s eyes. Harry had slept fitfully on the sofa while Niall and Liam talked into the night about what they should do, only calming when Niall spooned up beside him for an hours nap before they headed off. Liam had already left when they had woken up, the map left out, along with a few gadgets he must've swiped from work. Harry had peered curiously at them before deciding to go back to huffing and followed Niall in silence out the door. 

Niall pulls out a brown wallet from his bag, flicking through the credit cards until he finds the one he wants and handing it to the officer. Harry's watching on carefully, licking red sauce from the corner of his mouth and chewing slowly on the bacon sandwich he had demanded from the overpriced cafe near the door. He doesn't say anything when Niall pays over 300 quid for two tickets and only raises his eyebrows when Niall hands him over two fake passports to prove who they are. 

“Thank you,“ he says politely to the customs officer, peering at the picture that he recognises from the stack of spare passport photos stuck to the fridge. “And you created my alter ego when exactly?” he finally asks when they’re out of earshot from the passport desk. Harry looks at the passport again, his new name is Henry and Niall just grins sheepishly at him.

“I’m always prepared,” Niall mutters. Harry shrugs, glancing down at the passport one last time before shoving it into his pocket and reshouldering his bag. He waits a moment, walking down the platform until they're through to the queue for the second ticket check before he pulls out a still warm wrapped banquette. 

“Hungry?” he murmurs, holding it out to Niall but not meeting his gaze. Niall grins at him, tearing into the sandwich. Harry snorts a quiet laugh and peers over the heads of their fellow travellers. 

“What’s the hold up for?” he asks quietly and frowns at Niall. Niall shrugs, mouth full of bacon and bread. 

“Security,” he states, chewing quickly. Harry’s eyes widen and takes a step forward, suddenly holding his backpack out in front of him like it’s going to explode. 

“Niall,” he hisses and Niall watches as he very obviously glances down at him. “There’s metal detectors.” He waves the bag again and a few of the business men around them start to look at them curiously. Niall smiles at him.

“Calm down, we can throw it in the bathroom.” Niall would normally figure out a way to get it onto the train, use a special case or disguise it on himself. He’s had to bribe a few officials once but Harry’s looking a little spooked so he decides not to push it. 

“Come on,” he swallows the last of his breakfast and nods his head towards the bathrooms up ahead. Harry follows him and hesitates by the door. The mens are closed for cleaning and Niall rolls his eyes. “Harry make up your mind, are you taking it to France with you or not.” 

“Not,” he mutters and pushes the door into the ladies. Niall snorts and follows him in. It’s odd to be laughing at a time like this but it lifts his mood and he makes him think clearly. Harry’s already at the sinks and pulling out the badly packed clothes. 

“We didn’t even need to use it,” Harry tells him, picking it up carefully like he’s testing the weight of it in his palm. Niall watches him and spares a moment to think that he looks good. He spies Harry taking a peek in the mirror and grins at him. 

“You pull the bit at the top,” Niall tells him. It’s not loaded yet so he has no problem with letting him play around. Harry blushes and fiddles around with it, holding it up at arms length. 

That of course, is the moment that the cleaner from the men’s walks in. 

“Fucking hell,” he exclaims, arms coming up around his head like he’s surrendering. Harry gapes at him and Niall isn’t sure what to do either. The door swings closed and the cleaner looks between them before he sends himself flailing towards Harry. Harry squawks and drops the gun and instead of ducking away from him, punches him instead. 

“Fuck,” Niall mutters and looks down as the man hits the floor. “You knocked him out.“ 

Harry stares down at him and shakes out his knuckles. “It’s my alter ego.“ 

Niall stares at him and wonders if Harry’s been replaced with someone in the hour it took them to get to the train station this morning. 

“Henry,” Harry giggles and covers his mouth with his hand. “Oh God, we have to get out of here.” 

Niall snorts and grabs the gun from the sink, climbing into the nearest cubicle and sliding it into the cistern. 

Harry stays quiet until they get through security and onto the train. He finds them a table seat and stares through the window 

“Do you think we’ll find him?” he asks quietly when the train is just about to leave the platform. Niall’s breakfast feels heavy in his stomach and the bright mood he had been in has gone now. 

“I'm going to do everything I can to get him back.” Niall responds honestly, watching Harry’s expression closely. Harry swallows, nodding once before sitting back in his chair. Niall’s worried that he's scared him again but he feels his ankle brush against his once and then again more deliberately. His face is blank though as he stares out the window as the city slips into countryside so Niall just smiles to himself, pressing his foot closer to Harry's and hoping he doesn't pull away.

*

Niall has a flat in Paris and Harry goes back to sulking when he finds out.

“It was for work,” Niall insists as he pushes the key into the rusty lock. He hasn’t been here in over a year and has no idea what it’s like inside. 

“We holidayed in Blackpool this year!” Harry snaps and follows him into the narrow foyer. There’s a row of post boxes and it’s sort of like a movie Harry had seen once. “We could’ve spent a week in Paris instead.” 

Niall lets him sulk and knows it’s not really about their choice of holiday destinations. There’s nothing really he can do until Liam gets back into contact so he spends most of the afternoon cleaning up and making sure his phone hasn’t ran out of battery. He figures out how to the electric going and hacks into the internet from downstairs but he has no idea how the heating system works so he has to wear a second jumper as he mops all the floors. Harry’s been in the bedroom most of the day, lying with his back to the door so Niall will think he’s asleep but Niall knows the way his shoulders are hunched up that he’s been awake all day. 

He’s been in the bathroom for nearly an hour now though and Niall can hear him carefully brushing his teeth for a second time and the tap running as he washes his face. The apartment isn't that big and the slice of light coming out of the bathroom is the only reminder to Niall that he's there. 

"Do you want any help?" Niall asks from where he's sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Harry takes a moment to answer before Niall hears a very quiet yes. He slips off the bed, rolling onto his feet and padding out of the bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom. Harry's standing just inside the door, stripped to the waist and staring into the mirror. The sinks dirty and splashed with the brown hair dye that Niall used earlier. 

"Do we really have to do this?" Harry asks even quieter now that Niall's in the room and Niall feels his heart tug because he looks so sad. 

"Yeah," he sighs and reaches forward to push his fingers into the mass of hair at the back of his head. Harry stares at him, only meeting his gaze through the mirror and pushes his head back into Niall's palm. "It probably won't be that much of a help but it will stop us getting recognised easily on the street. If -"

He pauses and takes a deep breath. They’ve managed to avoid this topic most of the day but Niall knows he needs for Harry to fully understand. 

“If it is Louis,” Niall says quietly. Harry’s shoulders lock up at his name and Niall feels a pang of sympathy for him. “If it is him then he’ll know you a mile off with your hair.”

“If it -” Harry nearly chokes on his words. “If it is him then he’ll know me in any disguise. He’s my _best_ friend.” 

Niall nods, running a hand over his shoulder to squeeze at the base of his neck. Harry sighs out loudly, rolling his head on his shoulders before looking back at Niall in the mirror with a pout. "It's only hair," he says but it sounds like it’s a question. “It’s only my hair,“ he says again, this time to himself and Niall scratches at his scalp in an attempt to be comforting.  
“What would Henry do?” Niall tries to joke but it falls flat and Harry just scowls in the mirror. If Zayn was here he would have something to say to calm him down, but then again if Zayn was there they wouldn‘t be cutting all of Harry‘s hair off. 

"C'mon," Niall murmurs stepping up beside him properly so he can wriggle his hand into Harry's and take the scissors off him. "Then we can go to bed." 

Harry nods, bending his neck and offering the back of his head to Niall. Niall takes a deep breath, he knows they're both being silly because it's just hair but he feels bad that he's put Harry in this position in the first place. 

"I'm really sorry," Niall whispers and Harry's eyes flicker up to meet his in the mirror again, from his expression Niall knows that he understands it's not just about the hair anymore. 

"I know," he murmurs, chin pressed against his chest. Niall nods and shakily snips off a chunk of hair. He inhales sharply as Harry's fingers wriggle into his front pocket, crooking them so he can hold on. Niall reaches down to squeeze at his wrist until Harry sighs beside him, shoulders relaxing and letting Niall cut the rest of his hair. 

Harry stares mournfully at his head for a full five minutes after Niall's done before he finally shakes himself and gets into the shower. Niall hesitates for a few moments, thinking of climbing in after him but Harry hunches under the spray and doesn't make any motion to invite him in anyway. So instead he rustles up a basic dinner in the kitchen and pulls blankets from the closet in the hallway to keep themselves warm because he still doesn't know how to work the thermostat. 

Harry curls into one of them as soon as he emerges from the bathroom. His teeth are chattering and his toes curl against the wooden floorboards where he lingers in the kitchen doorway. 

"Can we eat in bed?" he asks, biting his lip and looking very young. He looks like he wants to ruffle at his fringe the way he does when he gets nervous but his hand pauses half way and then falls back to his side. 

"Yeah," Niall nods, piling pasta into two bowls and ignoring how his breath is fogging up in front of him. He trails after Harry into the bedroom and climbs onto the bed beside him where they eat in silence. It's starting to get uncomfortable but finally Harry finishes chewing and when he sets his bowl carefully onto the floor he opens his blanket and lets Niall crawl into beside him.

"Harry," Niall mutters against his collarbone because he can still knows that Harry is upset and he thinks that they shouldn't go to bed if they're angry at each other. It feels like ice in his stomach as he realises that’s what he and Zayn had done last night. Harry shakes his head and clutches him closer. 

It feels wrong without Zayn there. He can only see the whites of Harry’s eyes in the darkness and he keep expecting to feel another pair of hands behind him. He _misses_ the hands behind him and he hasn’t realised before how it feels like there’s a third of them gone. 

“I’m so sorry,” Niall whispers to him, pressing their lips together and kissing him softly. Harry makes a noise at the back of his throat, rolling closer to slide a leg between Niall’s He’s warm against him, rolling his hips down so Niall can feel he’s half hard. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Harry whispers back, kissing him desperately now. Niall kisses him back but with a sinking heart he knows there’s no point. His chest feels too tight and his wrist throbs where he’s clutching at Harry’s hip and he’s not really into it at all. Harry grinds down again and makes a sound that sounds like a sob into his mouth before he’s rolling away and throwing his arm up over his eyes. 

“Harry,” Niall murmurs, rolling onto his side and rubbing his palm down his arm. “It’s alright.” 

Harry nods shakily and Niall has to reach up to gently pull his arm away from his face. His eyes are watery and he blinks a few times before rolling into Niall’s chest. 

“Just go to sleep Niall.” 

It makes Niall’s breath catch in his throat because it’s the last thing he said to Zayn. He has to take a shuddery breath because he thinks he’s going to cry. It’s clawing up his throat and all he wants is Zayn back beside him where he knows he’s safe. Harry blinks at him a few times before he shuts his eyes and repeats himself. 

“Sleep, Niall.” 

So Niall does.

*

The sky outside is a dull grey and it looks freezing but Niall slips out of bed without waking Harry and pulls on a jumper to walk out onto the street. It's early, far too early for a lot of people to be up but Niall can't sleep. Now that they're in Paris it's annoying him that they can't do anything more yet until they get a better fix on their position. He walks for a few minutes, remembering the streets from the last time he was in Paris and hunching his shoulders against the cold.

There's a bakery at the corner of the street along with a fancy café and Niall's fishing his wallet out of his pocket to make sure he has enough money to buy breakfast when he spots him. At first Niall thinks he's hallucinating but when he blinks the man on the phone at the bottom of the street still looks the same. 

Niall doesn't give it another thought turning on his heel and half running back to the apartment. Harry's groggy when he gets there, waking up because of the noise Niall‘s making but Niall doesn‘t care as he clambers over his legs and pulls his phone out of the bag on the side of the bed. 

"M'where were you?" he asks through a yawn and scrubs at his face with his hands. Niall pulls him up by his wrist. 

"This is it,” Niall tells him, letting go of his wrist to boot up the laptop. It takes too long to connect to the internet for Niall’s patience so he dials Liam’s number from memory on his phone as well.

"Niall what are you on about?" Harry asks again, sinking back into the pillows and pulling the blanket up around his shoulders because it's freezing in the near empty apartment. 

"I think I saw - no, I'm sure I saw Louis outside," he tells him and listens to it ring. It's even earlier in London but he doesn't care about waking Liam up anymore. It rings three times before Liam answers, sounding more awake than Niall does. 

"Louis," Niall nearly shouts down the phone. He's got an excited buzz running through him and he can't believe that it was right in front of him all along. "I saw him, on the corner of the street it’s definitely him. Liam he's got a phone." 

“Are you sure?” Liam asks and Niall can tell even over the fuzziness of the phone line that he’s scrambling to get to a computer. 

“He’s here?” Harry’s asking behind him, crawling to meet Niall in the centre of the bed. He’s frowning but there’s a hint of resignation in his voice. “It’s really him?” 

“At the café on the corner, I swear to God.” Niall nods. Harry sighs, flopping back into the pillows and pulling his arm up over his eyes. Niall watches him for a moment but decides to let him have a moment before turning back to Liam on the phone. 

Liam manages to find the phone signal and he watches it all morning until it settles in the hotel above the café. 

“Are you sure he’s going to be there?” Niall asks quietly. He’s calmed down now and allowed Liam off the phone to connect to them over Skype instead. Harry’s mood had gotten worse so he had went to sit in the living room and stare out of the window instead of listen to them strategize. 

“As far as I can see,” he answers before he pauses over the line. “Niall, you know they won’t allow me to authorise a team?” Liam sounds stressed. “You’re going to have to do this on your own?” 

Niall takes a deep breath before answering him, “I know.” 

“Fuck,” Harry mutters from behind him and Niall spins to see because he had been sure that he was still in the other room. He crosses over to him and splays a hand over the slowly healing bruise on Niall’s side, staring down at it because Niall had been careful to hide it from him the past two days. “You should go to a hospital.” 

Liam makes a noise of agreement but Niall ignores both of them, turning back to the window and ignoring the way Harry’s hand feels hot on his skin. “Who’s the closest contact in Paris? I’ll go get him myself.” 

“Niall,” Liam warns and Niall would know without looking up that he’s shaking his head in that way he always does. “I can’t tell you, you know that.” 

“I know,” Niall sighs and runs a hand roughly through his hair. Harry moulds himself to his back, wrapping a leg around his waist and nosing at his bare shoulder. There’s goosebumps there already from the cool apartment and Harry’s breath just adds to them. 

“I’m meeting with some people tomorrow, I’ll try my best to get someone over to help.” Liam tells him quietly. “I’m really sorry Niall.” 

“Tomorrow is too long,” Niall tells him tersely. “If he’s in the café at the bottom of the street I’m not sitting here and waiting another twenty four hours.” 

Harry tightens his arm around him, pulling him back into his chest. Liam sighs, face breaking up for a moment over the line. 

“Whatever you think is best,” Liam mutters and goes very quiet. Niall tries not to read too much into the look he‘s giving him. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” Niall answers quietly before shutting the lid of the laptop. Behind him, Harry rubs his nose across his shoulder. “What are we going to do? How am I going to get close to him.” 

Harry sighs against him and is quiet for a moment, “we should go for dinner.” 

*

The café is only lit by candles, one on each of the tables. It’s noisy because it’s nearly full of couples at each table and a longer table towards the back. There’s a mix of accents and languages around them and Niall can pick up words of most of the conversations to know that all of them are actually there to eat dinner. 

Harry looks different with his hair so short and he keeps rubbing his fingers over the crown of his head and going to nervously rub through his fringe that doesn’t exist anymore. He looks soft under the candle light and picks up his menu carefully to read through it. It’s in French so Niall watches with a smile as his eyes skim it before setting it down again. 

“You’ll have to order for me,” he mutters and shifts in his chair. He’s favouring his right side and Niall knows it’s because there’s a gun under his armpit. Niall has his own strapped to his ankle just in case. 

The waiter doesn’t seem anything out of the ordinary so Niall orders for the both of them with a smile and watches carefully as he walks back into the kitchen. The door swings open as he pushes through it and Niall catches a glimpse of long brown hair that makes his blood run cold. 

“Shit,” he bites out, ducking his head and reaching for his glass of wine. He goes to sip it but hesitates at the last moment, pausing with his fingers hovering over the stem of the glass. He’s being paranoid, he knows he is but he gets a flash of the drunk man in Morocco and second guesses whether he should drink it or not. He runs his finger across the rim and Harry’s breath catches. 

“Is it safe?” he asks quietly, kicking at his ankle to get his attention. “What’s wrong Niall?”

“Just someone I’ve had a run in with before,” Niall says quietly. He keeps his head down and peers past Harry’s shoulder. There’s a tense five minutes where Harry just gapes at him, hand around his own glass to appear casual but never actually touched a drop. A man with a violin starts up in the corner and it seems a bit surreal for a moment. 

He can pinpoint the exact moment she realises he’s there. The kitchen door bangs open and the waiter to his left ducks. Niall has a split second to push Harry’s head under the table before there’s a string of bullets spattering across the café. 

“Niall!” Harry cries out but it’s lost in the din of screaming and another ring of bullets around them. Niall scrambles under the table, aware of shattering glassware and splintering wood above him. He pulls on Harry’s elbow and tugs him across the old dusty tiles. 

They’re half across the floor when a pair of shiny patent heels appear in front of him and set of red lacquered nails close around his ear. 

“Well,” comes a giggle above him and the bullets suddenly stop. The café descends into an eerie silence as any remaining customers stare at them from under their tables. “I think you miss me Horan, coming back for more?” 

Harry’s hand is shaking under Niall’s palm and he squeezes him once before letting go of his arm and twisting under the woman’s hand to look up at her. She looks exactly the same as she did the last time but this time she has a gun in her hand and an excited grin on her face. 

“Couldn’t keep away,” he grins up at her before kicking out with his foot and catching her round the ankles. She falls easily and it allows Niall to shove Harry off in the direction of the bar. He’s able to roll over while she’s distracted, ripping his own gun from it’s holster and throwing a wide shot over his shoulder. 

There’s another set of screams from the other diners but Niall doesn’t have time to pay attention to them because she’s rolling onto her side, gun cocked and smirk on her face. 

“Fighting dirty this time?” she asks over the din with a grin. “No sexy boyfriend here to save your skinny arse?”

“He seems to be a bit predisposed,” Niall shrugs but his gut is clenching and his hand is sweating around the grip of the gun. She giggles again. 

“Yes,” she agrees, sliding onto her knees. Niall keeps his gun trained on her but it’s starting to make him feel nervous the longer they stare each other out. “Missing him?” 

He misses her shot by an inch and he can feel the sound of it roaring in his ears as he rolls across the tiles. She laughs again, dropping a shot near where his feet are and he has to shield his face from shrapnel of tile. He flicks his head around and glimpses Harry huddled under the bar, gun gripped tightly in his hand but Niall knows from the wide eyed look he’s got on his face that he’ll never pull the trigger. 

“Shit,” the woman swears and her gun clicks uselessly. Niall realises with a surge of adrenaline that she’s out of bullets but before he can do anything about it she‘s thrown herself across the room and is on him before he can scramble to his feet. 

Her elbow digs into his ribs, pushing down on where he’s already tender while her other hand grapples for his gun. He twists under her, panting slightly until he can get enough room to launch his gun across the room. It clatters on the tiles and Niall’s worried for a moment that it’ll go off on it’s own but he has more pressing matters to worry about as nails rake into his skin and he can feel the skin of his neck tear. 

He’s vaguely aware of the commotion across the room, shouting starting up and a scuffle in the direction he had thrown his gun but the woman is pulling at his collar and Niall feels like he’s choking. He sees Harry from the corner of his eye and he’s rolling on the floor with someone, legs kicking out and elbows flying but Niall can’t think of that now either. 

The grip on his neck tightens and there’s a dull roar in his ears and his vision is swimming until all he can see is her cherry red lipstick as she grins down at him. Niall has a moment where he _knows_ this is going to be his last breath. It fills his lungs and stings in his chest and he thinks of Harry across the room and Zayn up the stairs

“Eleanor!” 

The woman on his back stills and Niall gasps for breath, flopping onto his front and blinking tears out of his eyes. He’s not given time to recover because Niall can feel the press of the gun at his neck. He _knows_ it’s not a threat anymore but the cool steel against his skin makes his spine go rigid. The whole room has stopped and Niall flicks his gaze over to find Harry again, heart beating when he finds him trussed up, hands behind his back and a trickle of blood down his cheek. He’s not looking at Niall though, instead he’s staring intensely at Louis who’s stood just behind the bar. 

He can feel the woman - Eleanor - heave a breath against his back and Niall sways because his head is thumping again and his throat hurts, burning raw with every quick breath he takes. 

“Take them upstairs,” comes a voice but Niall’s too focused on the tiles and swallowing down the bile raising to his throat. Harry struggles across the room, wrenching free for a moment before a second person pins him to the floor and he goes limp under the combined weight. 

“Harry,“ Niall croaks, throat burning. Niall’s head suddenly feels like it’s splitting open and it all finally goes black.

*

Niall’s groggy when he wakes up this time. 

The room’s dark and his neck aches from the way he had been sleeping, chin pressed against his chest. It smells dusty but Niall presumes they’re somewhere in the old hotel with the faint whiff of garlic underneath the damp. 

He manages to blink his eyes open and into focus to glance around in the dim. There’s a stream of light coming in from the crack below the door and the curtains on the old windows let in a slither of orange glow from the street outside. It’s still night time and there’s a faint hubbub of voices below them. 

“Niall,” comes a croaked whisper and Niall’s neck cracks he spins it around so quickly. It’s still too dark to make out the rest of the room but there’s a faint blob of black a few feet in front of him. It’s blurry around the edges because his head is throbbing but he can see that the figure is slumped in a chair just like himself. 

“Zayn?” Niall manages to reply. His throat is dry, like he’s slept with it open and he wonders how long he’s been out. There’s dry blood all along his cheek and throat that cracks with every movement he makes and his wrists are tied tightly behind his back. 

“Hey,” he croaks and Niall nearly collapses with relief. His mind is fuzzy but with Zayn’s voice he snaps back into focus with a gasp. 

“Harry,“ Niall asks. “Where is he? Harry!“ 

Zayn’s hushing him and Niall knows he’s making too much noise too soon but he needs to know where he is. He tries to think of the last time he seen him but he’s only catching glimpses of him hidden under a table when he closes his eyes. 

Panic crawls up his throat and he feels like he’s going to be sick. 

“Niall, Niall.“ Zayn is almost chanting under his breath across from him and Niall has to take three deep breaths to calm himself down enough to even hear him over the roar in his ears. 

“Where is he?“ Niall asks again and rocks in his chair. It’s rickety and he could probably break the wooden back but he can hardly feel his feet and his arms feel like lead so he would probably break something in the process. _“Zayn,“_

“He isn’t in here,“ Zayn mutters. “I think he’s fine.“ 

Niall feels his stomach give out and he turns his head to spit out onto the floor. It’s only a mouthful really but he hears Zayn’s snuffle from across the room. 

“Are you alright?“ he asks quietly and Niall blinks into the dark as his head swims again. 

“Yeah,“ he mutters and clears his throat. “Are you ok? What did they do to you?“ 

“Nothing really,“ Zayn tells him and Niall squints to get a better look at him. He can’t see anything really but Zayn’s face catches the streak of streetlight from the window and Niall can see the stripe of red across his cheekbone. “I’m fine,“ Zayn repeats but softer this time and in a tone that Niall’s more likely to believe. 

They stay quiet for a few more minutes as Niall tries to fight down the urge to vomit again and tries to get his mind into some sort of order. He’s struggling to find a way out of the ropes he’s bound in and his mind runs through ways that Liam might figure out they’re in trouble.

“It is Louis.“ Zayn murmurs after a few more moments and Niall takes into a sharp intake of breath. “He’s been in and out a couple of times but there’s different men that seem to be the ringleaders.”

Niall nods and takes it all in. 

“It’s a bit full on for an environmental group,” Niall snipes and Zayn’s laugh is like music to his ears. 

“Do you have any plans on how to get out of here?” Zayn asks quietly three minutes later when Niall’s nearly dropped off to sleep again. He feels drained. And as much as he wants to fight the flutter of his eyelids more of him wants to sink into the darkness around him. 

Niall snorts softly, mouth feeling too heavy to actually speak and he hears the warm sound of Zayn’s laugh in response. 

It’s nearly dawn when he wakes up again. He still feels sick and he has a few vague memories of Zayn calling for him to wake in the middle of the night so he probably has a concussion. Zayn’s asleep in front of him now though and Niall’s able to take in the series of welts and gashes scattered across his face, neck and chest. His shirt is torn, the sleeves gone and just a scrap over one shoulder and down his stomach. There’s black and blue mottled up his bare side and Niall wretches between his knees. 

“Would you like some water?” Comes a familiar voice behind him and Niall sits up straight, back cracking and zinging in pain. 

“You gonna drink it first?” Niall asks quietly as Louis appears in the corner of his eye. He doesn’t look confident anymore and Niall’s actually surprised that there’s a bottle of water in his hand. 

“Of course,” he mutters and scrambles for the lid of the bottle. Niall watches him, half in confusion because this is nothing like the arsehole he knows from home. It’s hard to imagine him a part of this group - whatever they are - as well. They stare at each other for a moment and Louis blinks, eyes widening before he gulps at the water. “It’s fine, I swear. I got it from the shop down the road.” 

Niall nods, jaw opening and Louis is hurrying across the room to him. He tips it to his lips carefully and Niall nearly groans as he’s able to sip some of it. 

“Zayn gets some,” Niall tells him, gasping for a moment after draining nearly half the bottle. Louis nods quickly and caps the bottle, glancing over at Zayn who still is seemingly asleep. “Where’s Harry?” 

“He’s - “ Louis falters and Niall nearly throws up again at the way his voice cuts off. “He’s fine,” he repeats properly and shudders. “He‘s fine, I promise.” 

Niall‘s quiet for a moment, stomach settling slightly now that he‘s not in such a state of panic.

“This isn’t what I planned. It isn’t what I signed up for.” Louis mumbles, eyes searching him out. 

Niall nods and turns back to Zayn. He doesn’t really care for Louis’ guilty conscience right now. 

“Where is he?” he asks again and watches as Zayn’s foot taps on the floor. He’s not wearing any shoes and his toes look purple. 

“A room down the hall.” Louis sighs and sinks to the ground between them. He pulls his knee up to his chest and groans into it before looking back up at Niall. “I put him to bed, he’s fine, I swear.” 

There’s something about the way his eyes are so open that Niall actually believes him this time and finds himself nodding, relief finally seeping through his veins. His shoulders sag uncomfortably the way they’re pulled behind him and he tips his head back with a sigh. 

“The rest of them are all asleep,” Louis whispers and Niall very nearly doesn’t hear him. He’s talking into the denim of his knee but his eyes are focused on Zayn’s toes a few feet away. “They’re all asleep and won’t notice.” 

“Won’t notice what?” Zayn finally makes himself known. Louis jumps but Zayn had kept his voice gentle so he doesn’t scare him. He looks between the two of them before rising up onto his knees and crawling towards Niall. 

Niall can’t help tensing but Louis’ eyes just go a bit wider as he pulls at the ropes behind his back and suddenly Niall’s free. Zayn looks a bit stunned too and sits still as Niall scrambles across the bare floorboards to pull at the rope around his feet. 

Zayn slides off the chair and into his lap right there with a low moan. “Fuck, my shoulders hurt.” 

Niall laughs, pulling him into a brief gentle hug before helping him to his feet. Louis is standing nervously by the door, thumbing over the opposite wrist before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. He stares at Niall for a long moment, flicking his gaze up to Zayn. 

“I’m really sorry,” he sighs and hands the phone over to him. “Harry’s in the room at the end of the hall.” 

“Where are you going?” Niall can’t help but ask and finally Louis gives him that fucking smirk that normally seems glued permanently to his face in London. He slips out of the room and Niall’s left holding the phone in his hand as Zayn props himself up on the wall. 

“Well then,” Zayn smiles at him, careful to keep his voice down in case there are some people still awake. Zayn holds out a hand and it all seems so surreal for a moment that he has to bark out a laugh. 

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Well there goes sneaking out without anyone noticing.” 

“Where would the fun be in that?” Niall asks and can’t believe that they’re laughing at a time like this. Just hours ago he thought he would never see Zayn again. He grabs for his hand, pulling him in so he can hug him again. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers quietly and Zayn nods against his shoulder. 

“Let’s go get Harry,” Zayn whispers against his jaw, brushing his lips there before pulling open the door. 

*

“Cute look Styles,” Zayn mumbles sleepily. 

Liam had managed to get him a single room with a pretty roomy bed for a hospital and Zayn’s been curled up in the middle of it fast asleep for the past two days. 

It’s been quiet and Niall’s spent most of it tucked in the chair by the corner, close enough to the bed to reach out and touch Zayn if he stiffened in his sleep but far away enough that he could lie and watch the Parisian skyline. The rest of his time has been spent dodging phone calls from Liam who was already on his back about filling out paperwork. 

Paperwork is the last thing on his mind, not when Zayn’s been out cold for nearly 48 hours and Harry keeps being overly clingy around them both. He doesn’t remember much about their escape - or the first day in the hospital which he was poked and prodded until they decided he just had a concussion. He has vague memories of Zayn half carrying him out of the hotel and Liam somehow being in the ambulance with him.

“Like it?“ Harry grins at him, leaning forward and catching him in a sloppy kiss. Niall can see the shock in Zayn’s eyes and feels a bit shocked himself as he watches them kiss. Zayn doesn't have the energy to kiss him back properly but he manages a soft press of lips and rubs his thumb over the back of Harry's head again. 

It’s the first time that both of them have been awake at the same time and Niall can’t stop the grin on his face. He never thought that he would get this again, all three of them together. 

He unfolds himself from his chair and sinks onto the bed beside Zayn, Harry climbing in at the other side to curl up beside him.

“I'm really glad that you're ok.” Harry mutters against Zayn’s lips and Niall grins at them before pressing them against Zayn’s temple.

“Me too.” Zayn croaks curling between them and letting out a shuddery breath. “I can’t believe you’re here. You shouldn‘t be here.“ 

Harry grins at him, the skin around his eyes crinkling before he shrugs and rolls onto his back on the thin hospital pillows.

“I’m thinking of a career change.“


End file.
